The Lotus Blossoms! - Volume II

[Ascension]

Continued from The Lotus Blossoms! (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?543906-The-Lotus-Blossoms!)


With only natural sea to sail, the Remora's journey to Haborhead is less eventful than its flight from the Dreaming Sea. The sights of the Southern coast, too, are less spectacular when seen a second time, diminished somewhat by familiarity. The context of power games and dark secrets besmirches the gleaming towers of Chiaroscuro and the rune-crusted walls of the Varang cities.

The uncanny nature of the circle's living ship makes the voyage easier still, not only through the little magical conveniences it affords the crew, but also through the aura of power such an obviously magical conveyance projects, able to repel would-be pirates and curious fisher-folk alike merely through its implication of strength. Passing Realm vessels are not so cowed, but for the time being, at least, the word spreading by rumor and intelligence report is that the Remora is the personal vessel of the Daughter of Elegiac Winds, a mysterious but well-to-do daughter of the Dynasty, whose motley assemblage of hangers-on ultimately helped defuse tensions in Chiaroscuro. The tree-ship sails undisturbed.

After a little less than a week in transit, the two great manse-topped hills of Kirighast come into view, towering over the port city's broad, natural harbor. In contrast to Chiaroscuro's deserted docks, Kirighast's port is still crowded with Realm shipping. The flag of the Merchant Fleet and its accompanying pennant bearing the V'neef mon are scarce here, though. They're outnumbered by the Cathak mon of the local satrap, which is outnumbered again by Ragara's sigil. The banking clan's investments in Harborhead run as deep as House Cathak's debts, and Ragara's galleons sit low in the water, holds heavy with jade or slaves. A scattering of Guild ships and independent merchants are present, too, bartering for whatever local traders have left after the Dynasts have claimed their share.

A wide diagonal boulevard lined with parks and high-end merchants' stores, the Street of Palms, bisects the city of Kirighast. To the northeast lies the Realm's stronghold, referred to simply as "The Imperial Garrison" by the native population, though the actual barracks and parade grounds of the 47th Legion fill less than a third of the space within the solid walls of the "Garrison." The Garrison is centered on Inkosintaba, the storied "King's Mountain," now crowned not by the Leopard's Seat, but by the vine-draped white walls of the satrapial palace.

To the southwest is the Old City of Kirighast, dominated by Borosintaba, the Bull's Mountain, the hill topped by the Fane of the Upswept Horns, the monumental temple which serves as the heart of Ahlat's cult. At Borosintaba's foot, the palace of the Leopard Seat himself, the nominal King of the Five Tribes, appears almost as an afterthought, quite literally overshadowed by god and satrap.

Beyond the walls of the Old City and Garrison alike, an unruly fringe of slum tenements and squatters' huts blurs the boundary between Kirighast and the veldt. Great fenced pens, well guarded by armed and alert warriors, also stand at the edges of the city, corralling cattle or slaves awaiting their turn on the city's auction blocks.

Harborhead, as the Realm would define it, is Brown Leaf's homeland, but this sun-baked urban labyrinth, where freedom is readily exchanged for jade scrip, is a far cry from the rural villages she knows. And while Jasara says that Wind was bound for this satrapy, there's no guarantee the capital was his goal. The search has to start somewhere, though.

A new adventure awaits. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-uoUckIeSrY)

Brown Leaf:
During the voyage, something unusual occurs. Every now and then, in a quiet moment of meditation or on the edge of sleep, Brown Leaf seems to hear an indistinct something, a gentle susurrus almost like a gentle breeze brushing through reeds. The sound has no obvious origin or cause, and perhaps that ought to be unsettling, but, if anything, Leaf is somehow comforted by the phantom whisper, fractionally emboldened by it.

Brown Leaf has gained one dot of the Cult Merit.

[Sticks]

There's only so much variety one can expect on the high seas, especially when pirates and curious locals are keeping their distance. Not being a sailor, Brown Leaf kept herself occupied with self-imposed routine. She woke with the sun, stretching on the top-deck as the leaves that formed the Remora's sails rustled.

She was a small woman, average height in much of Creation, but petite for her native Harborhead. She dressed in plain, flexible clothing, mostly in shades of white, saffron and wheat-colored cotton, cut to a monk's needs, though with little loose fabric to drape across her muscled shoulders. She did possess one outfit of black silk, cut dashiki-style, with a matching black halter-top, brought together by a brightly-colored Yeddim-hair sash with silk backing. This last outfit was for special occasions only, and those were nonexistent on the ship. She had quick dark eyes, a prominent nose and very even teeth. Her scalp bore a few tiny scars from a lifetime of self-inflicted shaves without the benefit of a mirror, but at this time there was a significant covering of thick cloudy hair, dark brown but lighter than her skin. If asked, she would say that she was waiting to see what her hair wanted to do, and then they'd work something out between them.

Each morning she would raise her hands above her head, interlocking her fingers and feeling the skin of her palms stretch against callouses, old and new. Then she would turn and scale the mast, fingers easily finding purchase in the rough bark of the tree. A quick moment of shimmying along the branch would see her hanging by an arm high above the deck, where she'd tuck her other arm behind her back and begin a series of quick, controlled pull-ups. After a hundred-count, she would switch arms. This would be followed by her toes hooking into a branch, and she would commence a series of hanging sit-ups, leg-ups and more stretching. By the time she finished her entire warmup, the galley would be open, and the next phase of her routine would begin.

Still sweating, she'd descend into the ship's mess and join the ship's cook in preparing breakfast for the crew. Long since abandoning her monastic prohibition on meat, Leaf happily set out saltfish, bowls of soup made from preserved fish-skin and edible kelp, and rice congee. Once that work was done, she would eat, and then bring a plate down to the sleeping quarters for her girlfriend, who was a late-riser. They would talk while Kelam ate, and then descend to the hold, where they would light a single candle and practice meditation. This came naturally to Leaf, as a former Immaculate Monk, and Kelam was used to meditating as an aspect of her martial-arts training, but they practiced together as a means to bond, become closer, and help Kelam quiet the voices she sometimes heard in the dark.

It was during such a session, the morning in which they made their approach to Kirighast, that Brown Leaf wondered if the voices might be contagious. Indistinct whispers, too vague to make out words, though words they clearly were, slipped into Leaf's consciousness and out again before she could focus on them. This was not as Kelam had described, ancient and massive and sinister. These whispers felt all too personal, vital and human.

Feeling even better than usual after a morning well-spent, Leaf ascended to the deck, holding Kelam's parasol open for her partner, as the capital of her homeland loomed before them.

"Welcome t' my home, Chéri. I hope I get t' show ya alla it."

[Ascension]

Kelam, who stood a head taller than her girlfriend, ducked slightly to fit comfortably underneath the parasol as she came on deck. She was grateful for the shade; though she had forsworn her allegiance to the Deathlord of Skullstone, by nature she was still of the Abyssal Exalted, a deathless creature of the Void, and the Sun's light pained her. Her skin was corpse-pale and almost preternaturally unblemished, a stark contrast with the long, straight, jet-black hair she typically kept tied back in a high ponytail. She had a dancer's build, a lean, long-limbed athleticism trained through meditative stretching, calisthenics, and as much sparring as she could convince her shipmates to endure. Though her birthplace lay to the West of Creation, she possessed the soft facial features most closely associated with natives of the Blessed Isle.

Out of necessity her fashion choices ran in morbid courses; she dressed in funerary garb and clothing stripped from the bodies of the dead. These brought her metaphysically closer to the grave, lessening the sting of the Sun's judgment as she walked beyond the Underworld. By habit - self-imposed, but no less binding than any supernatural limitation - she kept her soulsteel katana, the Mourning Blade, at her side at all times, often stroking its tsuba as if by doing so she might commune with the tormented spirits of her family trapped within.

Still, though she could not shrug off her aura of death entirely, she had changed much, brightened much, since she first met Brown Leaf. She wore her lamellar armor, with its ineradicable odors of old blood and stale sweat, less and less often in recent days, and her shy smiles and rosy blushes came more often than her cruel smirks and bitter tears. On the morning of their arrival to Kirighast, she hesitated only a moment before slipping an arm around her partner's waist, her fear of the eyes of the Remora's crew nearly gone.

"No, this is a city," she teasingly disagreed, "and I know you grew up from the fields, my little Leaf."

She smiled to assure Leaf she meant that as no insult.

"Wu-Jian trained me to see the best in cities along with their worst, but I hope we have the chance to visit your real home. It must be a wonderful place, if it turns out daughters like you."

[Malozing]

As the two lovebirds conversed on the deck while taking in the sight of Kirigasht, Tya Captain Slang quietly chuckled while maneuvering the Remora closer to the docks, more than happy to see the two women openly enjoying each other’s company. The scar-like stylized tattoos framed their crooked smile and wound down their neck and continued down their lightly muscled arms. Underneath the hem of their sleeveless shirt, the scar of a shark bite accented with more tattoos can be seen as Slang shifted.

A few of the crew hustled about, still familiarizing themselves with how to dock the modified living ship. Other crew members went about bringing up the leftover Chairoscuroan tiles onto the deck.

‘Zalm and Coela can get a good price on all it,’ Slang thought. ‘Well, we can worry about that later. First things first-'

“Before we dock, do we have a plan for where we’re heading or what we are saying?” They called out to the rest of the Circle. “Besides the plan that Leaf has to show Kelam around that is.”

They really shouldn’t tease the former monk so much, but she has the best reactions.

[Inspector Valin]

"Well, that's the rub, isn't it?"

Wirric Stanton is leaning against the wall behind Slang. The sorcerer looks oddly at ease somehow: he finally consented to letting the ship's barber tidy his mop of golden hair, and without his hefty coat he seems strangely unburdened. The ruffles on his shirt flap heartily in the breeze, but Wic pays them no mind. He smiles as he watches two good companions enjoying both the view and each others company. It's a refreshing sight, and he doesn't look away even as he starts to explain things to the good Captain with slightly hushed tones. "Leaf's the one person here best suited to identifying Wind. She's from the area, and she knows the mind of an ex-Immaculate better than anyone. She should take the lead here. But..."

With a sly look, Wic gestures to Kelam and Leaf before turning to Slang and whispering. "Well, do you want to come between those two right now?" The sorcerer chuckles softly, placing a hand to his throat before shaking his head. "I know I don't. I'm not so sure on lingering over their shoulder either. Even I know two people in love deserve some privacy."

Oversimplified logic given, the sorcerer steps across to the side of the Remora, placing a hand upon the rail as he takes his own fill of Kirighast's skyline. Not a sight Wic had ever expected to see, and not one he welcomed exactly. There's an air of power to this place, a certain energy that leaves him on edge in a way even Champoor could not. His gaze lingers on the great Fane of Upswept Horns, and the Whitewaller can't hide a chuckle. Ahlat's grand temple is far more ostentatious than even the Palace of the Three: and the Syndics are Whitewall's open rulers. It says much about the Bull God and his place in the minds of the people here. The Dynasty must hate it so.

More reflections can wait. Wic pulls himself up from the rail, glancing to Slang and gesturing to Tuoni. "I say we use today to get familiar with the area and any current events. After that we take tonight for ourselves and then tomorrow we begin searching for Wind in earnest. That allows Leaf and Kelam some personal time, and means we'll hopefully have a better lead to go on when we start searching properly."

[pfm1995]

Leaning against the rail, mangled hands spread over the living wood, Tuoni stares up at the twin horns of Ahlat. The sunsets must be beautiful from the peaks, he couldn't help but think. The Southern God of War was a stranger to him, but from what Brown Leaf and the Remora's sailors had said he was revered here almost as most as Golden-Eyed Jorst was back home. But, what had he done to earn such devotion? Since the Realm had come, had there been a war of any significant size in the south?

Tuoni nods in agreement to Wic's plan. "The spirit courts here, I think, will be more sympathetic to the realm than any we've seen. We may need to be more subtle than is our want. Do you know if the horse tribes keep a camp near the city?"

[Malozing]

Slang sheepishly nodded as Wic spoke. "I've been teasing, but if you're saying it a bit much, I'll ease up."

Tuoni's suggestion of subtlety caused the Captain to snort. "I am pretty sure that I can manage that. Not sure about everyone else."

Slang glanced at Wic and quickly looked over Tuoni.

"If we're looking to get the lay of the land, how about we let Leaf and Kelam have the day together. We could help sell some of the cargo, and maybe get you two some clothes. I mean you might want something other than furs, Tuoni, and I know some of your stuff got singed, Wic."

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf lingered with her head on Kelam's shoulder for a moment longer, then turned to the rest of the Circle.

"I 'preciate the sentiment, cap'n, but it ain't gonna be that simple. The satrap's enclave ain't jes' the administrative center fer the Realm, it's also th' base fer the Realm's information network, an it's right next t' the Immaculate temple. If I don't go straight there an' report, folk who're paid t' look fer dissidents'll start payin' attention t' me. If I report in, I kin git us the latest reports on Immaculate movements, an' get 'em t' leave us alone...but I'mma have'ta go in alone. I'm sorry."

The last words were directed at Kelam.

[Ascension]

Kelam's body goes rigid with a sudden rush of fear. Leaf, alone, treading on what is now enemy ground?

"How much do they know?" she blurts out. "And... and how will you explain your tattoos?"

As wild thoughts and fears fly through her head, she runs a hand through her bangs. If she shaved her head, maybe...

'You would play monk?' the bitter voice deep within her laughs, taking advantage of her distraction to worm back into her thoughts. 'Even more of a joke than playing hero. You lack the will.'

She grits her teeth against the terrible pressure of the dark whisper, the hand that brushed through her hair now kneading her temple.

'Pathetic. You yearn for light, but you lack the strength for it. Just as you lack the strength to acknowledge the truth of your being, the truth of the Void. Such a child. Playtime will end soon enough. Futile to fight-'

She half-steps, half-staggers out of the shade of the parasol, welcoming the shock of sunlight, hoping that the Sun will drive back the voice. This is the worst it's been since Champoor, or maybe even before.

"Sorry... dizzy spell... don't worry," she murmurs, trying to ward off her friends' concern, but she can't look at Leaf as she lies.

As her fears and self-doubts storm on inside her head, it becomes increasingly difficult to determine which thoughts are the voice of the Neverborn and which are her own.

[Malozing]

As Kelam stumbled, Slang barked at Tonijin to take over at the helm, which they abandoned to run to the Abyssal's side.

"A dizzy spell? They don't just come about for no reason. How long have you not been feeling well?" Slang eyed Kelam, studying her. "Any other symptoms along with dizziness?"

Slang is spending a mote to activate Flawless Diagnosis Technique. Three motes on excellencies.
Medicine 4+ Perception 3+ Excellencies 3+ Stunt 2
[roll0]

[Ascension]

"Well I... that is..."

Kelam isn't a particularly good liar at her best, and presently she's hardly at her best. She tries to piece together an explanation as Slang examines her, blaming her Abyssal nature, trying to take advantage of their ignorance of the undead Exalted, but Slang is too skilled to be so misled, and Kelam is still too human to be beyond the physician's ken.

Her eyes are dialated, her typically slow pulse racing. She's suffering a fear response, out of all proportion with the situation. There is pain there, too. Headache, no obvious physical cause.

Kelam's deep-seated sorrow is no secret - until recently, of course, she herself was known as the Mourning Blade - but this anxiousness, its physical weight, this is new. Slang realizes she is burdened, pained by her own mind.

[Sticks]

"Hon...?"

Brown Leaf leaned in and took Kelam's hand, placing her other hand on Kelam's arm in a gesture that was intended to be reassuring. When she spoke, her voice was full of concern.

"If'n yer not feelin' right, I kin wait on goin' t' the temple. Or we kin drop the Immaculate angle alt'gether, start lookin' from scratch."

She squeezed her girlfriend's hand gently, her tone shifting to compassion. Still maintaining her grip, she moved away slightly to make room for Slang.

"You showed me I don't gotta be a monk my whole life, I kin jes not be one here, if it'll make things easier for ya. Don't worry none. I ain't gonna let nothin' happen to ya"

She considered her partner's point of view.

"Or to me, fer that matter."

Okay, this is kinda tricky. Brown Leaf is making an Instill action towards Kelam, citing her known intimacy of love for Brown Leaf. She's trying to create a sense that things are going to be okay, that they will be okay, and that Kelam, herself is okay. If I can, I'd like to use Charisma and Presence, as Brown Leaf is basically exerting her own immutability to reassure Kelam. Throwing an Excellency(4) on for good measure. CHA+Presence+Tiger's Dread Symmetry+Stunt+Excellency.

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

[Malozing]

With Kelam wracked with anxiety, Slang placed their hands on the woman’s shoulders in an attempt to soothe and anchor her.

“Hey, you’re okay. Leaf’s okay and is gonna remain okay. Just focus on breathing. Deep breaths, Kelam,” they whispered.

Slang moved one hand into a pouch and pulled a small vial of oil. Opening it one-handed, the Tya dipped a finger into the woodsy smelling liquid and gently swiped the oil onto the wrist that wasn’t being held by Leaf.

“Breathe in, that scent can help calm you. Later, if you’re up for it, maybe you can talk to either me or your girl about what triggered this panic, hm?” Slang lifted Kelam’s chin so that she would look them in the eyes and offered her a gentle smile. “You don’t have to deal with everything alone. I’ve told you we'd find a way to handle your worries together. Leaf sure isn’t going to let you get buried under whatever it is that’s bothering you. You can lean on us.”

Slang continued to whisper encouragement to the swordswoman until she comes down from her anxiety attack.

Intelligence 3+ Medicine 4+ Stunt 2 +Excellencies 1= 10 dice
BTW, Slang is using a vetiver-based essential oil for this. If you were curious.
[roll0]

[Ascension]

Kelam grips Leaf's hand tightly and raises her oil-scented wrist to her nose.

Kelam hails from an island encrusted with urban development, a labyrinth of tenements slumped together into a single tottering mass, held up only by collective effort. The scents of home, then, are the smells of sea-salt, of close-packed humanity, of rotting garbage and sump water. After Wu-Jian, the Underworld claimed her, and nowhere in its reaches can the heady spice of funereal incense entirely drown out the charnel scent of death.

The woody, earthy scent of the oil, then, does not smell of home. It's something better, purer. It smells of places she's never been, places she's never dared to dream, of Eastern forests, of leaves and soil, of life and the promise of life.

Her shallow, gasping breaths slow and deepen, her shaking shoulders relax. Brown Leaf's reassurances push through the fog of fear and hate swirling within her, and even the bleak whisper of her dead-and-undying patron fades to a faint scratching, unpleasant but bearable (not unlike the light of the Sun).

Fresh tears prick at her eyes as she calms, but they're clean tears, catharsis, release.

"Thank you," she mumbles, "I'msorry, 'msorry, I shouldn't- Shouldn't be falling apart, but..."

She leans into the supporting hands of her... her rescuers, both Leaf and Slang.

"Thank you."

She looks to Leaf with wet eyes.

"B-but I don't mean to hold you back... I ought to have... faith in you..."

[pfm1995]

Tuoni's gaze jerked down in concern at the sudden commotion but he hesitated, and stayed where he was by the railing. He hadn't forgotten how she'd introduced herself in the Chiaroscuran Underworld. Whatever demons filled Kelam's - or Mourning Blade's - brain, they were doubtlessly strengthened by living with one foot in each world. He'd learned that lesson himself when he was younger; he'd spent too many summers vacillating between romance in beds of slow-growing moss and hunts with the rest of his village. Friendships and familial ties had withered on the vine for lack of care, and there had been times he and his love had very nearly declared it not meant to be. He'd made his choice though, and was happy for it. Neither soft words nor comforting hands could force Kelam to make her own choice - besides, he wasn't very good at them anyway. Instead, once the swordswoman seemed steadier on her feet, he turned to regard Wirric.

Insomuch as he could aboard the Remora, he'd been avoiding Wic these past few weeks. Their argument had cleared the air between them some, but he still found it hard to fully trust the sorcerer. Still... sometimes a new city meant a new leaf. "The good captain is right." Tuoni said, warily. "Both of our wardrobes have suffered, and I smell so much like a Yedim that even I'm noticing." He tapped the space on his mask where his nose would be. "A change is in order."

[Inspector Valin]

Wirric looks a touch surprised by Slang and Tuoni's suggestion. He stammers. "I... I was..."

He turns, looking out across Kirighast's skyline briefly. He'd had another idea in mind, but the resolved to pursue it is melting like ice beneath this sun. With a mildly rueful chuckle, he shakes his head to the skyline, and looks back at Tuoni with a grateful smile. "That sounds like a good idea. A new look, a new approach. From both of us"

[Sticks]

"Alla us, y'mean."

Brown Leaf directed the remark at Wic, but barely shifted her eyes from Kelam before returning them to her girlfriend, speaking quietly.

"Naw, I get it. Last time we were separated, we all ran inta all kinds'a trouble, an' didn't know each other's minds on things. I'll try an' act as our guide here, an hopefully we kin' learn somethin' 'bout Wind while we're in town."

She laughed as Tuoni and Wic picked at their clothes. "An I kin confirm that ya'll do stink. A shoppin' trip sounds fun, an on the way back we kin stop at the public baths on the Street of Palms. It's a good place t' pick up local gossip, an' ya'll kin freshen up."

[Malozing]

Letting Brown Leaf fully take over comforting Kelam, Slang took mental notes on the symptoms that the swordswoman exhibited. Bits and pieces of the ongoing conversation occasionally were heard by the Captain, but it was Leaf's mention of going to a bathhouse to clean up and to gather intel snapped their focus from Kelam.

Green eyes darted about the group as if looking for a way out.

"Um, are we sure that a bathhouse is the best place for gossip? I mean drinks tend to keep people willing to talk."

[Ascension]

Kelam shivers, and her cheeks flush, but for reasons entirely unrelated to her recent panic attack. In principle, a good bath sounds wonderful, and a bath with Brown Leaf sounds... like just the sort of dream she might have had before the black whispers of the Void beyond existence invaded her subconscious, but...

"You said public baths?" she croaks.

While the shyer members of the party try to find a way out of following Leaf's suggestion, the harbor pilots guide the Remora in to dock, giving it a berth amongst the Guild ships and independent traders. The living vessel draws stares and spreads whispers, and the harbor dues levied on it seem to have been inflated, but its crew isn't directly challenged as they were in Chiaroscuro. Kirighast soon lays open to its latest visitors.

[Inspector Valin]

"Erm...!"

Wic's face matches Slang and Kelam's at the suggestion of the party heading to the local public baths. The sorcerer glances across the group, the grip on his cane slackening a little as he tries desperately to think of something. Slang's words however give him the opening he needs.

"Quite! We... we can do better than that! I can talk to someone from the Guild! Yes!"

He seems a little too triumphant at having thought of a way to seize on this possibility as an escape. Wic stamps his cane down once upon the deck, and with that motion a flash of sky blue fire envelops the sorcerer, while somehow nary a spark seems to descend to the Remora herself. When it clears, there is no sign of the mysterious Mr. Stanton.

Just to put this beyond a doubt, Wic isn't angry or upset at this, he's just nervous around this topic and I couldn't resist the comedy. :smallwink: He's used his Twilight Anima power to teleport: he'll reappear in a place of power somewhere of Ascension's choice within a ten mile radius.

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf looked askance at the already-fading scorch mark on the deck. "Well Tuoni, I dunno if'n he's jes avoidin' cleanin' up 'cause you agreed t' it or not, but Wic musta been a terror t' his mama at bathtime."

She looked to her remaining companions. Kelam doing poorly, and now Wic running off on his own again. Lots to worry about besides their mission, and they hadn't even left the ship.

"I still think we oughtta do what we planned, but findin' Wic should take top priority. Boy can't do nothin' small, an I'm hopin' we kin stay here longer'n a day or two afore we gotta high-tail it out."

[Malozing]

The sudden blue flames startled Slang, and when it cleared to reveal the empty space where Wic once stood, the Captain grumbled under their breath.

“Just leave a friend behind.”

However, Leaf’s suggestion of finding the wayward Twilight brought another avoidance tactic to mind.

“You can go on to shop and bathe while I’ll go looking for Wic.”

Yup. This plan doesn’t have any flaws to it…

[Ascension]

The warrior in Kelam worries that the circle is splitting apart again. Their cohesion as a group is still fragile, their coordination questionable, and Kirighast is more firmly under the Realm's thumb than Chiaroscuro. Shenanigans on the scale of their typical misadventures might draw the better part of a legion in response. Scattering like this weakens their position.

The girlfriend in Kelam realizes that if they could shake Tuoni too, she and Leaf would have more time to themselves. Maybe they could even find a private bath somewhere...

She glances at the shaman.

"Maybe you should go with the captain? Safer to go in pairs than alone," she suggests. She tries to make it sound like a practical consideration, though the faint blush in her cheeks may betray her ulterior motive.

However the circle divides as they disembark, they quickly find that Leaf's prediction of muggy weather missed the mark. Even with the ocean so close, the humid sea breezes reach no further than the first line of buildings along the waterfront. And though by now the autumn should be ushering in cooler temperatures even this far South, summer's heat seems to linger overdue. The streets are still busy, but the crowds keep to shade as much as they can. The greenery visible around the satrap's palace doesn't seem to be suffering from the unseasonable heat, but the famous trees and gardens lining the Street of Palms look a bit parched.

Meanwhile...

The arrival of a ship propelled by sails of leaves, its masts living trees and its hull clad in bark, draws Skymoth's attention. He heard something about a ship like that through Pact channels, word spread by Qhispe. She's one of Ma-Ha-Suchi's lot, and he might have doubted her tale... but this ship certainly seems to fit the description. If the rest of her story is true, there are Solars on that ship, multiple. And if that's the case, the Celestial Exalted population of Kirighast has just grown significantly.

[pfm1995]

Tuoni snorted - not a pretty sound from behind the mask - and muttered "I could use a bath no less than the rest of you." But he glanced at Kelam and her blushing cheeks, and at Leaf's eager expression, and thought better of embarrassing the couple any further. Kelam might actually faint this time. So he raised his voice a bit and said, "But I don't know that I trust Stanton to be our ambassador here - lead the way, Captain. Tracking was never my strong suit."

[Eurus]

The last few weeks in Kirighast have been frightfully dull for poor Skymoth. He would have thought that a civil war finally breaking out would be just the sort of situation he'd live for, but if anything interesting was happening, it hadn't reached this far south yet.

He'd been killing time by training, mostly, one day after another, trying to maintain at least a little semblance of the routine that he'd lived by for so long with his sisters. He stole what he needed after dark with ease, so practical matters didn't bother him much, and spending too much time idle tended to make him morose, remembering exactly how cut off he was from everyone else. He'd been sorely tempted to try this "Heart's Blood hunt" thing he'd learned about from Smoke, just to have a form he could actually socialize in. He hadn't quite gone that far *yet*, but if he was going to stay around here much longer...

But then, things changed. Qhispe's talk about a circle of Solars had been amusing, in a distant sort of way, but he certainly hadn't expected them to show up here. Maybe they had better taste than he thought! With an excited sense of curiosity, he'd been flitting around town in his other shape, the green-white moth that let him go almost anywhere without drawing a glance. Like a dog chasing a wagon, he wasn't quite sure what he'd do when he found them, but the chase alone was entertaining.

[Sticks]

"Um...okay. Cap'n, don't let me ferget I owe ya for stuff back in Chiaroscuro. You an' Tuoni go have fun an' meet us at the baths later, then. If'n you find Stanton 'afore we do, bring him too."

Brown Leaf turned to Kelam and raised the parasol to shade them both, waiting until they were alone. It was early, but the sun was already baking the elegant brick buildings of the city and wilting leaves on the trees. With a mote of pride she noted that the leaf-sails of the Remora were still full and healthy, testament to her and Wic's work, and the crew's adaptability.

"Listen, I've got a little money on hand, enough fer us t' get a bite in town. After that...I'd like t' take you somewhere an' try somethin' you may be uncomfortable with, but it might help. Y'mean the world t' me girl, an I don't want you in pain. If alla this was..." she tapped the side of her head with a finger and gave a meaningful look "'them' then it's somethin' we need t' work through. T'gether. You ain't my project, yer my partner. Y'hear?"

Leaf finished with a grin, full of openness and earnest resolve. She might not be telling Kelam everything right now, but she was certainly not hiding anything.
Making a persuade attempt on Kelam with a 1-die excellency. Trying to get her to take on the task of going with Leaf and trying something that Leaf has already said might make her uncomfortable.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[Malozing]

This wasn't exactly how they had planned it, but it would do for now.

Nodding to Tuoni, Slang headed down the streets away from the Street of Palms and the public baths. Wic didn't seem to be the type who would hide in the very place he wished to avoid.

Slang led Tuoni through busy streets, quiet little avenues, and shady-looking alleys, but the Tya really couldn’t seem to find the trail. Much to their frustration.

“Dang it. I don’t know what he did, but I can’t get any sign of Wic,” Slang grumbled. “We might as well get some more comfortable clothes for you before we meet up with the others at the baths.”

Though Slang didn’t want to admit it, a bath sounded rather nice after running around in the heat of the day. Hopefully, the bathhouse won’t be busy towards the end of the day.

Not even bothering to roll, because someone is cheating by not existing before twilight, but Slang doesn’t know that. ;P

[Ascension]

Kelam's eyes widen. She trusts her girlfriend implicitly, but Leaf's omission of details - along with the admission that her idea might be uncomfortable - opens up space for worry to creep in. She stops in her tracks and swallows hard.

"You know I can't say no to you, love, but if I'm going to be your partner in dealing with... the whispers... I need to know what we are planning on doing. And..."

She looks Leaf straight in the eye, and her face trembles on the border between her steel and her sorrow.

"...I'd like to know what you'd think of me if it wasn't all them."

I'm too tired to work out mechanics right now. I suspect Kelam literally cannot say no to Leaf given the Decision Point system to resist Persuade actions, but I'd need to plot out her whole Intimacy structure to be certain. Back-and-forth negotiation is also difficult to model in the Ex3 system as given, though I suspect much of it is meant to basically serve as the 'stunt' structure around the roll and defense; most Ex3 social actions are actually meant as an abstraction of a lengthier social interaction. (Read Intentions, for instance, is supposed to follow a few minutes of conversation, rather than being an at-a-glance observation.)

So for the moment... Kelam's going to say yes regardless, but Kelam and I would like Leaf to think about this first.

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf experienced a momentary pang of guilt, a new sensation to the fastidious monk.

"Yer right, sorry. I guess I should save the suspense fer nice surprises an' such...or, jes leave 'em off. Never was much fer subtlety. Leave that t' the cap'n."

She ran a hand through her thickening hair, confirming her suspicions that she too was in need of a wash. Sea air was bracing, but the flecks of salt and whatever it was fish did in the water left an inescapable film that was impossible to ignore once in-sight of land. Not that she'd ever tell Kelam that she too was afflicted with the briny smut marring her long raven hair.

"Well, I had an idea fer helpin' ya when them whispers won't be quiet, but if'n it weren't...I'd still wanna help. I ain't good at sittin' back an' jes lettin' nobody be in distress, y'might've noticed." She favored Kelam with a rueful smile as they shared the obvious joke.

"So, yea, I'd wanna help, even if y' jes had some sea-sickness or...land...sickness...can westerners get that? Anyway, I wanted t' try some Immaculate exercises with ya, see if'n we can isolate some'a what's goin' on in yer spirit what's causin' you trouble. I kin' explain it as we do it, but it's kinda hard t' explain in the abstract. We'd need t' go inta the city 'cause we're gonna be dealin' with yer Fire chakra," She placed a hand delicately on Kelam's breastbone, letting her fingertips linger on the dark armor's reinforced leather "so I figure the best place we kin' go is the Fane. It's a fire temple after all, an' there's bathin' pools at the summit with endless hot water. An if'n I'm rememberin' Alhat's festival calendar correctly, it's a women's day to use the pools."

She took a half-step back and bounced slightly on her toes, eager to dig them into soil again. "So whatta ya say? I know I'm a cheap date, but I kin at least play tour-guide on the way! "

[Ascension]

Leaf:

Gods, that little bounce... If the heat rising in Kelam's cheeks and touching the shell of her ears is any indication, Leaf may have already begun to work on her Fire chakra.

"I don't know if, um... bathing pools... are the right place to work on focusing exercises," she stammers, embarrassment stepping into to replace trepidation now that she knows the shape of Leaf's plan. "But..."

She gives Leaf a shy smile.

"It... does sound like a welcome distraction?"

The pools aren't the only part of this plan that raise questions with Kelam, though.

"But is the Fane open to everyone? I'm obviously foreign, and I didn't exactly bring any cattle to offer, either..."

Kelam trails off. Second-guessing Leaf at every turn isn't how she wanted this day to go.

"Sorry," she apologizes, "sorry, I worry too much. I would love for you to show me around!"

She steps up close to Leaf's side, placing a hand over Leaf's hand on the handle of the parasol.

"And... I'm glad to have you with me in dealing with... my darkness. Thank you."

Skymoth:

As a certain moth flutters by the docks, a whole passel of people are disembarking from the tree-ship. Most of them, however, are Tya sailors or local stevedores hauling cargo from its holds, not likely the Solars claimed to be aboard. Heading into the city, though, there are four strangers who look significantly more interesting. They're not all travelling together; they've split into two groups of two:

One duo includes another Tya, distinguished from the rest of their crew by a distinct pattern of scars highlighted by tattoos, seemingly mementos of a large shark's bite. They're accompanied by a Northern-pale man, over-dressed for Southern weather, a blank white mask hiding his features. The Tya seems acutely aware of their surroundings, as if they're searching for something.

The other pair walk close together, sharing the shade of a single parasol, but aside from their clear affection for one another they're a study in contrasts. One is a tall, pale Islander, armored like a mercenary soldier, a high-quality katana at her side. The other is a shorter Southern woman, likely from Harborhead, but of mixed blood, her tribal affiliation unclear. Her garb is that of a monk, but a frizz of hair hides her scalp.

Skymoth must choose which pair of visitors to follow.

[Eurus]

Changing forms isn't just like slipping on a different cloak. A moth sees the world much differently than a human... ultraviolet light, scent particles on the breeze, even the vague but unerring sense of the planet's magnetic field all color his world so thoroughly that it's like he's floating through a whirling, luminous realm. Luna's blessing helped him make sense of it all at first, but now it's second nature to Skymoth as he flits through the air, trying not to let the rush distract him.

He sees humans, below. Small from a distance, impossibly large up close. They smell like sweat and salt and tar, ship-smells. One of the women smells like cold dirt and old blood, and his feathery antennae twitch in instinctive distaste. The masked man, on the other hand, smells like the soot of offerings, and the fabric of his clothes isn't quite like anything Skymoth has seen before. His companion, the tattooed Tya, smells even more like a ship than the rest of them, as if it's baked into their flesh and bone. Deciding to indulge his curiosity, Skymoth follows those two, drifting lazily on air currents several yards overhead, almost invisible against the bright sky.

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf smiled and took Kelam's hand. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qEWC9eKVFq0) "Naw, Nyrebi. Yer jes' askin' good questions. An' t' answer 'em, I'll tell you 'bout the temple on the way. First though, I want some proper food. We'll need t' head t' the Street of Palms eventually t' reach the Fane, but food there gets pricey pretty quick. I reckon if we head 'round the base 'a the mountain, we'll be able t' find someplace what don't usually serve tourists, an we kin git the real stuff."

She led her companion down the gangplank, and a thought struck her. "Oh yea, best t' let me do the orderin'. 'Fraid we won't be findin' any pork-buns in this area, an' most foreigners think Harborhead food is...well...spicy. That noodle dish we got in Chiaroscuro was tasty, but it ain't the same kinda spice. It's...damn, it's hard to describe. You'll see."

Walking through the back-streets was much the same as Leaf remembered it. They strolled down alleyways formed by the high walls of rich estates, shaded by the spreading boughs of wide-leafed trees. Thin tough stalks of yellow grass peeked defiantly between the red-brown cobbles of the street, catching on their clothes and springing back into place as they passed. Above them, birds both wild and domestic pets flitted and chirped, squawked and flapped. Occasionally, a door would open and a servant would emerge, pushing a cart or carrying a bag. Invariably, Leaf would greet them like an old friend, clapping them on the back and exchanging a quick word. No, she had never met them, but it was good to see them nonetheless. Along the way, she talked.

"So the Fane is Alhat's main temple. I know you heard'a him. Now the temple itself is open t' the public most days, it's where his guards and his brides live, an it's where ol' Resplendent Ibis, his high priest, works. I don't expect there's anythin' goin' on today. We're past the Ascending Earth festival days, an' none'a the five tribes got a major calendar event so soon after the festivals end. So far as the baths go, they're open t' the public an have soap an' oil on-hand, but we'll have t' go inta the temple an' pay our respects t' the god's alter afterwards. I figure we kin do our exercises on the temple grounds after, near one'a the flame alters. They never stop burnin' y'know?"

Suddenly, she stopped at an intersection, sniffing the air. A scent lead her down the right-hand path, slightly away from the mountain that held up the Fane. Emerging into a somewhat wider street, she identified the source of the smell. A small store-front, very clean but with peeling paint, advertising itself as a Shayanti eatery. "Oh, oooooh, okay. This is what I been lookin' for."

Once more establishing a fact about how things work at the Fane of Upswept Horns. Most of this is from the House of the Bull God, but some details are new for the purpose of the game. No Excellency this time, just Int + Lore + stunt. Don't think I can apply Leaf's specialty here, as this is very much not Immaculate in nature, but it does feel like something she would know.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[Ascension]

"I'm not afraid of spice," Kelam says with a smile. "Food grown in shadowlands all has a faint taste of rot, no matter how fresh it is, you just can't avoid it, but Ebon Siaka was determined to drown it out with spice, no matter what it took. One time this death cultist was visiting us as an emissary from the Bishop, and he-"

She starts laughing before she even gets close to the punchline, but her laughter abruptly cuts short. Her time in service to the Bodhisattva of Dark Waters wasn't entirely made up of pain and suffering, but it feels wrong, unclean to remember the happy moments. It feels shameful to celebrate anything from that phase of her life.

"...but never mind that," she mumbles. "This is your homeland, let's talk about you."

Some of her good humor returns as she focuses her attention on Leaf, though a shadow of guilt lingers in her eyes.

"What does Ahlat mean to you?" she asks, genuinely curious. "I know you were raised Immaculate, but did he still feel closer than other gods? You hear tales in Wu-Jian of people who have met the gods of standing water there - everyone's cousin or aunt or fishmonger has seen one - but they aren't... they aren't fond of people like I've heard Ahlat is toward Harborhead. I... wonder what that's like."

Her smile is more wistful this time, more fragile.

"Maybe you can tell me over lunch?"

[pfm1995]

Following the Captain from street to wandering street, Tuoni quickly despaired at seeing whatever trail they're following. Maybe it was the hustle and bustle of Harborhead - the grasses growing everywhere tugged at his clothing like tiny hands and the birds flitted about his face like bright-colored giant gnats, pulling his attention every which way but forward - or maybe they were just that much a better tracker than he was. When she finally admitted defeat, he tried not to show it but the tired, sweaty shaman felt relieved.

He nods at her suggestion. "I agree, though I'm not overly-blessed with funds. We will have to walk out into the poorer neighborhoods."

[Malozing]

“That’s no problem. We passed a place that might-“

The hair on the back of their neck rose, and Slang grew tense. Glancing about the streets, they couldn’t discern who it could be.

Slang bent their head closer to Tuoni and whispered. “I think someone is tailing us. Follow my lead.”

As they shove Tuoni suddenly down a side street, the Tya glanced about once again trying to find whoever is tailing the two of them.

Rolling Perception 3+ Awareness 3+ Stunt 2 for a dice pool of 11

[roll0]

Slang might be a little paranoid, they are going to activate Guardian Fog Approach for three motes.

Dexterity 4+ Stealth 5 +Stunt 2= 11

[roll1]

Tuoni gets to add half of Slang’s successes (rounded up) and Slang’s stunt bonus as dice to his own stealth roll thanks to the charm.

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf smiled and led Kelam towards the shop-front. "Sure I can, but don't think yer off the hook. If'n you got any good memories, I wanna hear 'bout 'em. 'Specially if'n they're 'bout the food you like. Ikntvis is teachin' me some ship-board recipes, but I wanna learn at least one dish from everywhere we visit on this-here quest. If you like somethin' speak up. Speakin' a which..."

She pushed aside the red cotton door-curtain and took a second to bask in the heady aroma of onions, chilies and tomatoes frying in peanut oil. Heaven. The interior was sweltering, so she guided Kelam to a set of padded mats near the doorway, hoping a breeze would pick up. Like any good Shayanti establishment, the floor was dirt, but firmly packed and swept clean, with thick cushions and rugs in place for customers to sit upon. She placed an order for a light lunch, groundnut soup, yellow pumpkin and plantain fufu. While they waited, she realized that she was rocking back and forth on her mat in excitement, and turned back to conversation.

"So far's I'm concerned, Alhat is a problem, but one nobody's gonna solve easy. 'Member how back in Champoor errybody were all bent outta shape over Tenepeshu? How they worried what killin' her would mean? Alhat's been 'round a lot longer'n her in his job, an' does it better too. The differences don't end there. He's made hisself integral in a way few other gods can say. If Tenepeshu were t' vanish inta elsewhere today, tomorrow there'd be a fight fer who gits her job, an' then that god would jes start throwin' their weight 'round same as she did. Alhat...nobody could replace him. Since we reached the South we been in his country, t' one degree or another. Errybody keeps him on their minds, from the Delzhan t' the Jackal Tribes t' Gem. His favor is genuine, as is his displeasure. He don't need t' cheat his followers, 'cause they kin feel his reach."

She paused to cough and drink a sip of tea, which had been steeping since they ordered. "Ahh, there we go. So yea, Alhat's a big deal in a way few gods are, an folks know how t' reach him. If'n you want his favor, offer a cow. If'n yer tribe wants his favor, offer a hundred. If'n you wanna unnerstand the big bull hisself, come t' Kirighast an' visit the temple, perhaps you'll get t' see one'a his attendants or borrow a tassel from 'is lordly kilt...I guess...I respect him."

She took another pensive sip, looking down into the clear liquid of her cup and the swirling particles of aromatic leaf within it. "He asks a lot'a folk, but he's fair. That's more'n you kin expect from most gods, in my experience. From what I hear he's also the life of the party, so that's another thing the Order has again' him."

She gave Kelam a sardonic smile. "Whatta ya think? Still wanna go see his temple?"

[pfm1995]

Tuoni follows Slang's lead, ducking his head and twisting into the alley with nimble grace. Of course, all the grace in the world wasn't going to help a white-masked man in foreign garb hide in the busy streets of Khirghast, but maybe in the shadowed alleyway and with Slang's help he could hide from there invisible pursuer for a few short moments. They would have to make the most of it.

[roll0]

[Ascension]

"Can you have good memories of bad people?" Kelam muses, with a melancholy smile.

'Or good memories of being a bad person?' she thinks, and the silent addendum chills her blood.

She turns her attention to the food as a distraction. She finds the plantain fufu somewhat lacking in isolation, but once she grasps how the starch is meant to be eaten with the soup (which is as spicy as promised, but wonderfully rich and creamy), the meal comes alive.

"This is good!" she enthuses, happy to find herself enjoying the tastes of her girlfriend's homeland.

Between the warm, spicy soup filling her belly and the sweltering confines of the little restaurant, however, her armor is turning into an oven. As sweat plasters her bangs to her forehead, she finds herself wishing that she'd been willing to relax her vigilance enough to wear lighter clothing ashore. If there's any bright side to her suffering, however, it's that the embarrassment of public bathing has begun to sound significantly less unpleasant than spending any more time swimming in her own sweat.

"Well as long as he doesn't think he can party with us," Kelam says, laughing, "Let's go see that temple."

~ ~ ~

The worshippers' trails up Borosintaba, the Bull's Mountain, are long and meandering, but not steep, and Leaf and Kelam both have remarkable endurance. Sweat still beads on Kelam's brow simply from the heat, but the climb itself is not taxing. The path taken by the couple is a lesser-used one, and it reaches the summit some distance from the bathing pools at the temple's main entrance, so they chat amiably as they travel around the Fane's outer ring of eternal flames and the ceremonial gardens which fill the space between the blazing pillars. As the entrance draws in sight, however, they encounter an unexpected crowd...

Brown Leaf's accounting of the Fane's general functioning, and of Kirighast's festivals, both the approved holidays of the Immaculate calendar and its traditional, local celebrations, was not wrong. Her memory is nearly flawless, and she is well acquainted with the rhythms of Harborhead's life.

Memories of the past, however, are poor tutors in the matter of current events.

The hundred spouts of the ritual bathing fountains of the Fane of the Upswept Horns are in use at the moment. All of them. A young woman in the prime of her life stands under each stream, cleansing herself with sober efficiency. Each of the Five Peoples is well-represented among their number, and they are not organized along tribal lines, but intermingled. In skin-tone, hair, height, even in build they vary greatly, but all of their bodies, whether long and lean, short and stocky, or somewhere in-between, are uniformly well-muscled, and they are further unified by their steely focus and their sense of shared purpose.

The Brides of Ahlat prepare for holy war.

A loose human cordon of temple acolytes stand outside the bathing area, warning off other visitors. Surprisingly, a few Immaculate novices are mixed in amongst their number, their eyes very carefully averted from the exposed flesh of the god-loving heretics preparing to enter Ahlat's temple. One seizes on Leaf and Kelam's arrival as a welcome diversion from whatever images may be filling his thoughts and strides nearer.

Leaf knows him. Not well... all the novice monks she knew well have departed from this world... but she met him when she visited Kirighast's monastery. He was a novice then, too, with little enough promise that his lack of advancement in the intervening period isn't shocking. She knew him by the rather elaborately ignominious temple name "Rooster-in-Flight." He's Izhalvi, given to the temple after his father lost everything short of his own freedom to a cattle raid.

"You cannot visit the Fane today," Rooster says with the confidence of borrowed authority, "Preparations are being made to confront the..."

His prepared speech trails off, and his eyes shift away from Kelam, whose obvious foreignness initially drew his attention, to focus in on Brown Leaf.

"...wait, do I know you?"

[Eurus]

Skymoth is surprised by the sudden evasive action, but it doesn't stall him for long. Relying on smell instead of sight, he tracks the traces of sea salt through the air, fluttering down at chest level and nimbly dodging anyone who gets in his way. With a bit of luck, he'll find them before they get away.

Perception 5 + Awareness 3 + Stunt 2 + Excellency 5
[roll0]

[Sticks]

"Rooster. Mela's eyes upon you." Brown Leaf's greeting was automatic, though genuine. She placed her left fist into her right hand, holding the gesture at chest level, and bowed at the waist. Any initiate worth their incense would return the gesture at once.

"Brown Leaf, late of the interior mendicant ministry. You last saw me when I was an initiate under Zhuchi Thousand Grains, of house Peleps. That was jes over a decade ago, an I been itinerant fer a lotta that time."

She looked him over, then glanced past at the eye-catching sight. She looked back to Rooster-in-Flight with a meaningful glance. "So, what seems t' be the issue t'day? The Tokitari managed t' convince Alhat t' lend 'em his entorage fer a raid on the Varang? Or is it jes' laundry day on the fane an' ya'll are here t' keep sun-mad tourists from makin' a scene?"

[Malozing]

Slang couldn't spot anyone following them down the smaller street, but they did spot the moth fluttering towards them. One that looked quite similar to the ones that partook in drinking blood from freshly inked tattoos or biting into the tender flesh next to new tattoos.

"Kak!"

The Tya jumped back from the wandering moth. Hands waved about to keep the flying insect away.

"Er, sorry." Slang glanced sheepishly at at Tuoni with a weak crooked smile on their lips. "I, eh, don't like moths very much."

The Captain looked around once more to see if anyone stood out in the crowds, face flushed from embarrassment. As the moth ventured closer to them, Slang flinched away.

"Em. False alarm, I think. Let's get you some new clothes."

Slang quickly walked towards the shop that they had seen earlier in the day. Their posture stiff, either from mottephobia or embarrassment.

[Ascension]

Skymoth:

Wait... he didn't notice it before, from a distance, but this close, Skymoth feels like he knows the Tya from somewhere. They remind him of...

They remind him of...

"I, eh, don't like moths very much."

They remind him of a total jackass!


The image that fills Skymoth's mind isn't the Tya's face... except it is, in the same way that sometimes in his dreams Skymoth is someone else, not himself as he is now, or as he was before Luna came to him, but someone else... and yet still himself. The face he sees in his mind's eye is still that of a Westerner, but with a ridiculous teal goatee and an infuriatingly smug smile. It's a punchable face, so eminently punchable...

...and yet Skymoth suddenly remembers what happened when he(?) tried to punch it. The man bent over backward in an impossibly fluid arc, faster than Skymoth(?) could blink, faster than Skymoth's(?) fist, which met only empty air. And then that eminently punchable face popped back up into Skymoth's(?) line of sight, and that stupid teal moustache twitched, and he said

"Sorry, old chap! Better luck next time!"

And as Skymoth remembers(?) those words, they echo and multiply within the small confines of his moth head.

-that grinning face pulling ahead at the last moment in a footrace-

"Sorry, old chap! Better luck next time!"

-that face smiling back at him from the door as the goatee'd man left with the cutest boy at the party-

"Sorry, old chap! Better luck next time!"

-sparring, Skymoth's(?) sword biting through thin air again and again until an unseen blow lays him out on his back, and that face smirking down at him-

"Sorry, old chap! Better luck next time!"

Again and again, a lifetime's worth of humiliations echoing like faded memories.

And now, after all that, they're... back? And they shaved? And they became a Tya? And they don't like moths very much?

Solar boooooooond~
Brown Leaf:

Rooster eagerly dips in an answering bow and comes up grinning from ear to ear.

"Brown Leaf! By the Dragons!" he, um, crows. "You're following Yujiro's example now?"

He runs a hand over his bare scalp and looks meaningfully at Leaf's hair. The Yujiro he refers to was a legendary ascetic monk of the Shogunate era who gave away his razor in the course of relieving himself of all his earthly possessions and never shaved again from that day forward.

"It's funny timing, you showing up just now. Zhuchi Thousand Grains, he was the old abbot of the Fountainhead shrine in Sand's Edge Valley, wasn't he? You know that monastery's been destroyed, don't you?"

He waves a hand in the direction of the bathing Brides without looking.

"That's actually what all this is about, sort of. We've finally found common cause! One single, solitary thing the abbot and Resplendent Ibis and the satrap and the Leopard can all agree on. And that's Sand's Edge."

He frowns.

"I'm sorry, this might be hard for you to hear, but while you've been traveling... with Fountainhead fallen and Thousand Grains away... Sand's Edge has fallen into heresy."

He tips his head slightly to indicate the Brides and the Fane beyond as he adds, "The kind even they can recognize. In fact, the herdsmen were the first to notice signs of trouble. Maybe a year ago, weird rash of tiger attacks against guarded herds of cattle. And the news has only gotten worse since then."

He drops his voice to a whisper and leans closer to Leaf.

"The latest is that they've got a prophet now. I heard some of the older monks talking about it a couple days ago."

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf's back stiffened, her fists clenched. She tried to keep her voice level, though she had no idea if she succeeded or not.

"What...what do you know about this...prophet? They local? Some outsider? What did they do that's got errybody so riled up?...What has happened t' my old home?" She switched to Low Realm for Kelam's benefit, but even in her second language she could not hide the steel in her voice, nor did she wish to. "An if you can't tell me the answers I'm lookin' fer...Who. Can?"

Brown Leaf is making an intimidation attempt here, less to make Rooster-in-Flight scared of her, and more to make him realize that it's in everyone's interest for Leaf to get her answers. Basically 'I'm not mad at you, but depending on what you tell me, things will get bad.'
Charisma + Presence + Stunt + Tiger's Dread Symmetry
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
Tiger's Dread Symmetry re-rolls:
[roll3]

[Ascension]

Kelam lays a hand on Brown Leaf's shoulder, a gesture of comfort, but also of restraint. She doesn't have much context, having been unable to follow Leaf's conversation with the monk in Flametongue, but she's seldom seen Leaf so upset. Her body language is plainly affectionate, but, fortunately for his perception of Leaf as a fellow monk, Rooster's a bit distracted at the moment.

"I don't know for sure!" he yelps, then he adds, more quietly, "The rumor is that he's maybe Anathema, could be promoting Anathema-worship, but it's unconfirmed. This isn't officially a Wyld Hunt. It's an unusually well-armed investigatory expedition. If you want to know more than that... You could try asking the senior monks. Or you could try to get it from their sources, but I don't know who that would be. Maybe there are some merchants or nomads in town who've passed through Sand's Edge recently, or maybe they have... spies? Scouts? I really can't say."

He shrugs helplessly.

"This is all over my head."

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf sighed in exasperation. "Fine. I thank ya fer your information, Rooster. Paisap's strength." She left it at that, and left him at that.

Striding back down the terraced steps, she looked out at the expanse of the city. They were on the wrong side of the mountain, but she knew the far side would let her see to Kirighast's other peak, and the Satrap's palace there. The senior monks would be at the Immaculate temple, but she doubted she'd have much luck with them. Rooster was still an Acolyte for a reason. It was normal for mortals to remain at the rank their whole lives, but after more than a decade in the order, his lowly assignments spoke to his abilities. Senior leaders in the order would likely be able to tell she had not been living as the tenants instructed, beyond her freshly-covered scalp. She would be asked to account for herself, for her whereabouts and activities for the past decade. Under normal circumstances she might have gotten away with vague musings about walking Creation, but now her parish was under scrutiny. If Rooster told anybody she was around, she would be tracked down and summoned. If she refused, she would be a fugitive. Rooster would tell, he was guileless and honest...heh, kind of like her. She briefly wondered if that was true for all monks, or just honest peasant kids from Harborhead who became monks.

"Kelam...I think I need t' leave the city...tonight. We need t' find Wic an' have him fly me out. I won't ask ya or any'a the others t' come with me..."

She turned and looked her girlfriend in the face, her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "But it'd mean so much if'n ya did."

[Ascension]

"Leaf... my pearl..." Kelam stops walking and faces Leaf, placing her hands on her girlfriend's shoulders.

"You won't let me face my troubles alone... What makes you think I'd let you run off into the night by yourself, like this?"

She pulls Leaf into a tight hug.

"Let me in on this, Leaf. Tell me what's gone wrong, and let me help you fix it."

She sniffs as tears prick at her own eyes and her breath hitches in a near-sob, but in the next moment her eyes are watering for an entirely different reason.

"...as we're skipping town, though," she says, pulling back from the embrace just enough to let Leaf see her face, "could we still skip through that bath on the way? I think you were right about how badly we need it."

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf laughed, she couldn't help it. "Okay, you're right. Let's get that bath in. An' I should really tell you what's goin' on. We should let the others know too. I get the feeling Wic will show up once all the bathin' is done, an' we kin fill the rest'a them in then. Fer now though..."

She took a deep breath, let it out, and explained as best she could.

"Them brides up there, that is, the women bathing'r called the 'Brides of Alhat' they're Harborhead's elite army, they're gettin' ready fer battle. The monk back there, Rooster-in-Flight, yea, I know, stupid name. He was tellin' me that somethin's happenin' in my home valley. Folk there've been gettin' attention out here, which lemmie tell you ain't never happened before. Hell, everythin' south'a the veldt could'a dropped inta the Wyld an' nobody in Kirighast woulda noticed 'less some big muckety-muck's cattle went with it. Anyway, the Immaculates an' the Cult of Alhat, even the Leopard Seat are all hyped up t' run out there an' put down some kinda 'prophet' what's stirrin' my folk up. He says it's 'nathema related too. Now I know, it's probably me, or some fool figured he'd try an' make me some kinda holy figure, or..."

She paused mid-sentence and mid-stride, stopping so suddenly Kelam almost bumped into her.

"It's a long shot...but it could be Wind. All we know is he came t' Harborhead. He had a few weeks lead on us at least t' begin with, that's enough time t' get there an' start stirrin' things up. If he knew what questions t' ask, he'd probably'a heard that was the last place another 'nathema were heard from. Trail woulda been cold but..."

She whirled around and clutched Kelam's arms, jumping slightly with excitement. "We might be on the right trail! If'n it's Wind, we gotta bring the others!" She saw the look on Kelam's face and drew back sheepishly. "Oh, heh, right, bath. C'mon, it's this way."

[pfm1995]

Tuoni follows right on Slang's heels, mask tracing the moth as it winged away. There had been moths like that back home, in the northern forests - they'd traveled in great flocks thousands-strong, stopping to sup on the blood and sweat of anyone nearby. They gathered so thick, after some time in the sauna could wear them as a coat so thick you could stand in a blizzard and not realize it was snowing. The memory brought a chill to his bones; that many legs moving over his body had been a little too much, even for him, and he'd had to dive into the freezing lake to get them off.

The daub hut they ducked into wasn't really a shop, or even a temporary stall - it was a house, or it had been. The roof was long gone, as evinced by the thin plume of smoke rising from inside, and the mud wall facing the street had collapsed a generation ago. All that protected the privacy of the current inhabitants was a tattered and frayed length of muslin that still showed the sun-bleached hints of old tribal patters. A pair of youths holding long reeds played at swordfighting outside; the elder had a wide grin on his face as he thrashed the younger but both stopped to eye the newcomers warily as they approached. Tuoni had chosen this place for two reasons - well, three counting price. The first was their choice in decoration - wind chimes dangled from every available surface, each and every one carved from white bones. At a glance he could see oxen and fish and bird and human all strung together like a madman's prayer, and their soft tones and raucous clacking filled the street with mirth. The second, well - 'tribal pattern' or no, he knew the pattern woven into the muslin in the same way he knew the language of the Solars of old.

'Shelter'

So he ducked through the sheet, and as he approached the old woman curled up in the corner and weaving as she minded supper he squatted, and made his offering - lemongrass, peppercorns, some other spices he didn't recognize from the Remora's galley.

"Elder." He said, dipping his head in acknowledgement. "May we join you?"

[Ascension]

Tuoni, Slang, Skymoth:

The old woman's eyes flick upward from her work, and she assesses the stranger with no evident surprise or fear, despite his blank mask, foreign aspect, and slurring voice.

"'May we'..." she echoes. "Clearly you've identified the right question. I am an old woman, defended by a wall made of cloth and children for guards. Had you asked 'Can we?' the answer would have been obvious."

She sets aside her weaving to reach out and take a couple stalks of lemongrass, quickly and efficiently dicing them with a simple trade knife of Realm manufacture.

"Few outsiders stop to consider 'may' or 'can' in Kirighast. At best they ask 'What price?'"

She scoops up the diced lemongrass with the flat of her blade and drops it into the pot of stew bubbling at her side.

"I wonder, since you've offered me the privilege, if you would respect my 'no.'"

Her eyes seek the face behind Tuoni's mask.

"Are you genuinely asking a question, or are you merely trying to salve your conscience as you take?"

But she looks away and she smiles, releasing the tension of her challenge. She uses the point of the trade knife to indicate a pair of threadbare rugs spread on the smooth dirt floor of her ruined hut.

"Come, sit. You may at least tell me why you have come."

Skymoth:
From the patterning of her muslin 'door,' the fish bones incorporated into her wind chimes, the cowrie shell charms at her right wrist and ankle, the color of her skin and her close-cropped hair, Skymoth can recognize that the elder woman is Krantiri, of the coastal tribes, and likely a healer.

Again, for anything more, there's Lore rolls.

[Malozing]

Slang was confused to why Tuoni entered what seemed to be a home when the shop that the Tya had in mind was just a little bit further down the road but followed his lead. They bowed their head in greeting as Tuoni spoke, and when the woman asked why they had stepped into her hut, Slang glanced over to Tuoni with a raised eyebrow.

Yes, why?

The cowrie shell charms did pique the sailor’s curiosity, but Slang decided to remain quiet until Tuoni was finished with his business.

[Eurus]

Skymoth's antennae vibrate with indignation at the insults thrown against him! It's like people think that they can just say anything they like about animals just because they can't understand... absolutely unforgivable. It reminded him of... reminded him...

"Sorry, old chap! Better luck next time!"

Unfamiliar memories well up in Skymoth's mind. It's not the first time it's happened, but it may be the most vivid one yet. He's vaguely aware that it's some sort of past-life memory, although the specific mechanics of the thing are beyond him. Perhaps the rational thing would be to dismiss the thought and not hold it against this new incarnation... but Skymoth is already irritated. Doesn't like moths, eh? Well then...

A few moments after the masked man and the Tya enter the healer's hut, the curtain rustles again as Skymoth steps inside. Two very startled youths stare at him from behind, wondering how they missed the man's approach; it's as though he came out of nowhere at all.

In his true form he's short, just over five and a half feet, but he has flawless black skin and the lithe corded muscles of a runner. His eyes are bright and mischievous, like a beam of moonlight frozen in amber, and his hair hangs a few inches from his head in bushy spiraled curls. A skirt comes down perhaps half the length of his thighs, a white-and-red cloak gives him a bit of protection from the sun, and a pair of sandals protect his feet, but he's obviously not self-conscious about bare skin, and his chest and stomach look practically sculpted. A gleaming metal shield is secured to his back over the cloak with a leather strap, and he carries a spear in one hand, using it like a walking stick. He flashes the old woman a smile just shy of dazzling, but it turns down a notch -- still charming, but with a wryness attached -- when he looks at Slang and Tuoni.

"Hey, granny! These foreigners aren't bothering you, are they?"

Making a quick instill check to get on the healer's good side. 5 appearance +2 presence +2 stunt. Influence might apply in some ambiguous way if she recognizes Skymoth.

[roll0]

[Malozing]

Slang started at the sudden appearance of this stranger at the door, their left hand reflexively moving towards where their seven-section staff is stowed on their person.

Was he the one following them? How didn’t I notice him?! Probably too distracted by that moth. I hate moths.

“She invited us to sit, and if she wished us to leave, I’m not one to overstay my welcome,” the Tya grumbled indignantly at the muscled man.

Slang eyed him suspiciously.

“Were you the one I sensed tailing us?”

Read Intentions; Slang really wants to know if Skymoth was following them, so they can figure out how in Sol's name they didn't notice him.
[roll0]

[Ascension]

The old woman smiles affectionately at Skymoth before turning her attention back to her guests. Her eyes probe Tuoni, assessing the stranger's stance, his unusual dress, his formless mask.

"They have earned my curiosity, son," she tells Skymoth. "And, as guests, a bit of stew. But it remains to be seen if they merit anything more."

At Slang's suspicion that Skymoth may have been following them, she smiles again, evincing some pleasure at the foreigner's discomfort.

"Now, now, it's good to keep an eye on strangers. And I would venture that you two are the strangest who've passed through this part of city in quite some time."

She turns back to Tuoni, her eyes hardening.

"I do not recognize your face. If you have come seeking kinship, your feet have led you astray. You are far from the land of your ancestors, and their gods."

Slang:
Skymoth's Guile is as unimpressive as Ivory Knife's was godlike, so you've succeeded; I can leave it to Eurus to tell you what Slang gets out of it, though they're likely to pick up on his antagonism, at least.

[Ascension]

Brown Leaf and Kelam:

The public bathhouse on the Street of Palms is an antique structure, predating even Blood on the Horn's unification of the Five Peoples. Its roof, a dome formed of bricks placed in stepped concentric tiers, rises higher than any of the trees shading the walk, reaching as high as the outer wall of the Old City itself at its summit. All of the columned archways along its walls were once open, but the Realm's own standards of bathing etiquette have seen them filled with newer walls, leaving only narrow, high windows to admit sunlight. A single entrance remains open to visitors, its wooden doors richly adorned with bas-relief carving. The mythological images carved there all feature a bare-breasted woman with clouds of steam issuing from her lips. The sequential pictures depict how she came to bless mankind with the rejuvenating steam of her breath.

Stepping inside the bathhouse, Exalted visitors are struck by more than the heat and humidity of the air. There is raw power in the bath, Essence charging its atmosphere. The Essence flow is contained within the structure, but not fully tamed, more demesne than manse. Dynastic observers have attributed this to the "untrained" geomancy of its "primitive" builders, but the strength of local opposition every time a satrap or visiting worthy has suggested "correcting" its "fault" suggests that its form is already suited to its purpose.

The stone sculptural detailing within the bath's lobby is older than its carved wooden door. The steam-breathing goddess has shorter, plumper proportions in the stone sculpture than she does on the wood, and her hair is braided rather than loose. Some of the interior sculpture also takes on a yonic dimension, depicting waters emerging from her nethers rather than steam rising from her breath. Yet other panels of stone sculpture depict a man of divine stature alongside her, but in every such instance his face and head have been carefully chiseled away.

You could put some clues together suggesting who the male divinity might be with a Perception + Investigation roll, if anyone wants to take a crack at it.
A wooden desk of fairly recent construction stands near the entrance, and from behind it a solicitous man - Shayanti, but wearing Realm-style dress, with his cheeks un-scarred - greets Leaf and Kelam.

"You are most welcome, honored guests!"

Though he speaks in the plural, his eyes focus on Kelam - the apparent Islander, wearing armor and carrying an artifact-quality sword - over Leaf.

"Is this your first time visiting the baths? Our services are a free gift of our lady, Wafting Sweetness, blessed be her name, but the Mother of Steam and we, her humble servants, are ever appreciative of prayers and offerings."

His smile is bright and expectant, but he doesn't let the invitation to provide compensation linger in the air too long.

"You should be aware, our baths are heated by fully natural springs, and they are currently experiencing an excess of Fire essence. As such, you may find the hot bath warmer than you might have anticipated, and the cool bath may seem tepid."

He smiles again and looks to Kelam.

"Although if that is not to your liking, Ragara Plenira has authorized us to extend access to her store of ice on credit, if you care to do the paperwork."

When the somewhat bewildered swordswoman fails to answer, he moves on from the sales pitch without any evident rancor.

"Lady Sweetness has blessed with extensive springs here; we are able to offer men's, women's, and mixed bathing."

He gestures toward each of the three entrances as he says this; they are semi-concealed behind sculptural panels at the far end of the lobby, the women's to the left, behind a panel of Wafting Sweetness herself, the men's to the right, behind a panel of the partly effaced male divinity, and the mixed bath in the center, behind a a panel of the godly couple arm-in-arm.

"Attendants will accept your clothing, provide you with towels, and anoint you with oil."

While Kelam had resigned herself to the necessity of bathing, the thought of handing her armor... and presumably her weapon... over to a stranger makes her blanch.

"Wait a moment," she says to Leaf, grasping for some excuse to delay the nigh-inevitable, "Tuoni was interested in the baths too, wasn't he? Should we wait for him? And... oh!"

She drops her voice and adds, more quietly, "And he said there's an excess of Fire essence here. Before we enter the baths, should we work on those mental exercises you were talking about?"

Wic:

After long exposure to the Mists of Eventide, Wirric Stanton experiences one of two things when he lies down at night: Without the Mists his sleep is restless, plagued by inchoate, formless nightmares. With the Mists he experiences a pleasant, numbing haze, any images within it subservient to his own will. He has not had a natural dream in years.

But in the timeless space between his disappearance from the deck of the Remora and his reappearance whither the Sun wills, as he slumbers in the folds of his own anima, neither the fog of nightmare nor the haze of the Mists embraces him.

In that liminal nonexistence, dream finds him at last.

It arrives as a soft, questing voice.

"F-father? Is that... you?"

[Sticks]

“Good idea.” Brown Leaf matched her partner’s quiet tone.

“Thanks fer the information, brother. We’ll be back before too long. Jes’ wanted t’ make sure we knew where th’ place was, an’ that y’all was open. Even if’n ya’ll were shut, it’d be worth it t’ look at the buildin’. I reckon it’s mid ol’ kingdom, pre-imperial make, with lady Sweetness an...” she waved her hand past the defaced male figure noncommittally. “Well, she’s done justice, certainly.”

Without waiting for his reply, Leaf gave the attendant a bow in the Realm style, took Kelam by the arm and retreated across the Street of Palms. She had not wasted that moment of idle banter. Her new experiences with construction had given her an appreciation for good work, and she knew well the Order’s methods of suppressing the Hundred Gods Heresy. If she had to guess, the faceless man was...

Making a Perception+Lore roll to figure out ‘who dat’. Gonna apply a 4-die excellency to this, and I figure as this is likely an Immaculate job, Leaf’s specialty should apply.

Perception+Lore+Specialty+Excellency(4)
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

[pfm1995]

Tuoni inclines his head, almost chuckling despite himself. Far from his ancestors and his gods he may be, but old folks were the same Creation over. Always with the word-play - it's what comes of spending so much time sitting by yourself.

It's also a game he could play, and he gratefully took a seat on the dirt floor. "You are an old woman," he acknowledged, "but you are protected by more than warded weaves and brave boys. The lessons I learned at the feet of my ancestors, and my gods, took strong root. I am a guest in your house, and my friend here can attest to what that means. Your 'No' would be more than law." He took the proffered soup with thanks, and plucked his reed straw from his sleeve and began slurping appreciatively. To the newcomer he spared a glance, and then a second one at that shining shield on his back.

"You asked why I am here, but you've asked two questions with one. My purpose," Tuoni said, enunciating now that his admiration for the soup had been made clear, "is to find a new set of clothes. I am being boiled alive in this heat. As for why I am here? This..." He waved a hand about his head. "It reminded me of home, even if it is not. Simple, well loved, with chimes to guide loved ones living and dead home. And the weave on the door - your hands are skilled, but more than that you still know something of the old tongues. Such things matter - or at least they should."

He paused to think for a moment, then nodded, satisfied with his answer. "My time of journeying is far from over - I would be honored if you would weave something for me."

[Eurus]

Skymoth listens to the masked man and the sailor, pondering. There's no guile in his features; when Slang calls him out on following the pair, he just flashes an unashamed grin and holds up his hands like a youth caught in the cookie jar. Slang's suspicious glare is almost comforting, a reasonable response to the situation. It also makes him feel like he successfully needled the Tya, which is a nice ego boost considering that the echoes of that purple bearded incarnation's words are still stinging his ears.

When Tuoni makes his request, Skymoth's expression turns dubious. He smoothly drops into a squat next to the shaman, so close that he can feel the heat radiating off the other man -- personal space is no more a concern for Skymoth than modesty -- and looks him over.

"...I'm surprised you haven't keeled over already. That mask can't be helping your air supply."

His tone isn't malicious. If anything, Skymoth is actually a bit concerned for the man, now that he's paying attention. Ahlat's balls, he looks pale, and sunstroke is nothing to laugh at. And if he's granny's guest, it wouldn't look good for him to pass out in the street. Skymoth strokes his chin thoughtfully.

"I can find you a parasol, perhaps..."

[Malozing]

Slang sighed, "I wouldn't disagree with either statement, elder. We do make a strange pair." Slang nodded their thanks as they accepted a bowl from the woman.

Skymoth's grin was the only confirmation they needed. "Don't know how I didn't see you though."

As the broad-shouldered man squatted down to get a closer look at Tuoni, the feeling that alerted Slang of their tail had morphed. Skymoth was familiar, but they couldn't pinpoint why. The two hadn't met before today, but the thought continued to pester Slang.

Wait. Qhispe and Brown Leaf's bond... That would mean... Kak. This man was the moth.

Why did he have to be a moth?!

[Inspector Valin]

Peace.

That's all Wirric ever wanted, really. Not glory, not honor, not even acceptance, as sweet as the allure of such can be. Peace trumps them all. To simply be-but-not, existing outside of the world and all within it has left the sorcerer calm in a way few other things have ever managed. All the worries of the search, his Circle and their mission just slip away.

Which is why the voice takes him aback. The voice he'd heard but once before, but could never forget.

"Yes. Yes, I'm here." the sorcerer murmurs, gently. He can't even quite believe this at first. He wants to, but such a truth is difficult to accept. After all this time, to have her voice echo in his ear... it's temptation sweet and pure as a smiling face, but few know the perils of temptation better than Wirric Stanton. When faced with something you want to believe, doubt all the harder.

And yet, his suspicions fade away into the emptiness of it all. They're wrong. This is her. His daughter. Life born of death, reaching out across the hidden folds of Elsewhere and beyond. Wic's heart can't help but sing at it all. "You're... all right?" Only half a question, half hope and prayer. She still lives, blessed be the Sun, but how has she fared since they parted ways? What has her life been like, set into this world alone and unguided, with the forces of Whitewall at her back? What must these years have done to her?

[Ascension]

Brown Leaf:

Kelam leans heavily against the wall at the mouth of an alleyway on the other side of the Street of Palms and breathes out a weary sigh.

"I'm sorry I'm so scattered today, Leaf," she apologizes, "and I'm sorry about... circumstances. I know this isn't the homecoming you were hoping for."

A whisper from the depths of her mind invites her to blame herself further for the day going awry, but she fights it back. Instead she looks back across the way, to the bathhouse dedicated to Wafting Sweetness.

"And I know you meant well inviting us all to the baths. I can't speak for the others, but it's just... a lot for me."

Indeed, she has a host of half-formed motivations lurking behind that 'a lot.' At the forefront are he risk and pain of parting, even for a little while, from her Mourning Blade and her sensei's armor, as well as... as well as... well, she never thought this would be how she and Leaf would... she wanted it to be something personal and private when they first...

...but she can't say any of that out loud, it's too much, it's too close to her heart, so instead she says:

"Back home my family always made do with just a bucket of seawater and a scrub brush," and she tries to play it off with a chuckle.

As Leaf thinks back, she remembers that this particular act of damnatio memoriae is not, in fact, the work of the Immaculate Order. According to Immaculate records, Wafting Sweetness was once venerated alongside none other than Ahlat, Southern God of War and Cattle. There was a falling out between the gods, and their cults, shortly before the Realm's first contact with the Five Peoples. Where Ahlat went on to become likely the single most prominent and powerful Southern god, Wafting Sweetness is only remembered in places like this bathhouse, where her holy steam vents continue to bless her remaining worshippers.

Immaculate records are either incomplete or evasive on the subject of the reason for the rift between the two gods, but given the way Ahlat was depicted in the now-effaced sculpture... how close the divine couple once was, at least in the eyes of Sweetness's cult... it seems personal.
Tuoni, Slang, Skymoth:

Tuoni's mention of 'the old tongues' catches the elder off guard. A flash of surprise breaks through her composed, carefully skeptical demeanor. It's only visible for a moment, however, before her own mask of self-control reasserts itself.

"If you understood that, you know that it didn't say 'seamstress,'" she ripostes, with a derisive snort. "It's true that people come to me for protection, but rarely from the weather."

She carefully turns back from her stew pot to the work of her loom. She closes her eyes and begins passing the shuttle through the warp with quick, assured movements.

She mutters as she works, "If you feared a curse... if your children were ill... if you needed to propitiate... your great-great-grandmother... or a dolphin spirit... you might be in the right place. But the last thing I need... is for foreigners to think... I've gone into business... as a tailor."

New patterns, however, are taking shape in the fabric. Patterns that speak, if one can comprehend them. Not Old Realm, nor Flametongue, or at least not the traditional way of writing either language, but something ancient and personal, passed through countless generations of Krantiri weavers...

Recall that Ancient Tongue Understanding shuts off Tuoni's comprehension of modern language as long as it's active. If he goes there, though, he may read:
IF YOU CAN UNDERSTAND THIS YOU OWE ME AN EXPLANATION
Wic:

"I think... 'all' right is a bit much to ask."

The girl's soft, plaintive voice strikes with enough force to tilt Wic's whole world off its axis-

-wait, no, that would be the ice floe.

The crunch of breaking ice, the lapping waters of a hungry sea, and, of course, the tilting of the thin sheet below Wic's feet make him aware that his dream self stands on the splintering edge of the White Sea.

"I am alive. I think I might not be able to die any more..."

Wic can identify the direction of the voice now; she's behind him. Turning carefully, he lays eyes on her for the first time since his... no, since their Exaltation. Her face is the same, her child's face, her cheeks just as cold and wan as it was when he watched the life ebb out of her... and her eyes just as haunted as they when life first stole back in. Her mussed hair, so blonde that it's nearly white, is also right out of Wic's memories of that fateful night.

The body, however, the body huddled underneath her formless cloak... it seems all wrong. She seems bigger and bulkier than she was in life, and also... misshapen? Her pose and her attire largely hide the truth of it, but his mind cannot process the irregular bumps of shoulders, elbows, and knees as equating to any properly proportioned human form.

"Not dying takes everybody by surprise... at least the first time..."

A sudden wave sets the ice floes bobbing, and Wic sees that she is on a different chunk of ice than he. A sliver of open water appears between their ice rafts. The Liminal... his 'daughter'... seems unperturbed by the oceanic movement. Her eyes stare out, unfocused.

"But it's getting harder to... hold my self together."

Another wave perturbs the liquid world, and Wic and his daughter drift further apart. She blinks, and her eyes turn to Wic, finally coming into focus.

"Where have you been, father?" she asks. "I could always feel your presence at first, but then it got so far away... I couldn't be sure if it was there or if I was just imagining..."

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf cast her eyes over the defaced sculptures of Alhat as she followed Kelam into the alleyway. When gods break up, they don't go half-way. She turned her attention to Kelam and listened.





"Back home my family always made do with just a bucket of seawater and a scrub brush,"

Leaf stood stock-still for a moment, then laughed. "Hahahaah! Oh man, an' that feller back there was all ready t' bow an' scrape an' give ya the 'm'lady' treatment!" Still laughing, she patted Kelam's shoulder before leaning on her, smiling up to reassure her girlfriend. "I ain't no better. I heard yer stories 'bout runnin' the rooftops an' stealin' pork buns an' I figured you was jes' a rambunctious kid, maybe some high official's tomboy daughter. Yer manner's so proper an..." She stood straight, rising on her toes to almost bring her scalp level with Kelam's eyes, an intent look on her face. "'I have proper enunciation and perfect balance, not a ripple disturbs the pool of my being.'"

She gave Kelam a quick kiss on the underside of her chin, then lowered herself and smiled again, though this time was just sincere. "Girl, yer jes' as used t' dirt an' hard livin' as me, but ya do such a good job'a coverin' it up you had me fooled. I love you an I ain't gonna force ya inta somethin' you don't wanna do, 'specially as this place..." she waved vaguely towards the bathhouse "Is more'n I'm really comfortable with too. I reckon we kin find a scrub-brush somewhere, but let's at least find some fresh water, whatta ya say? Go somewhere more private? We kin' still meet the others here in a bit."

So Leaf is trying to put Kelam at her ease, but I recognize that this way of doing it has just as much potential to set her spiraling again. So I figure it's appropriate for Leaf to roll here. When you get by socially on sheer force of personality, it can sometimes backfire.
CHA+Presence+Stunt+TDS+2-die Excellency.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[Inspector Valin]

"I've..." The guilt is obvious without Wirric having to say a word further. He hadn't even considered trying to defy the Syndics and find his daughter after he'd met up with Lupo. Whitewall had seemed unassailable to him. And with Whitewall out of the question, he'd had no idea how to so much as begin the search.

But why had he accepted that basic premise as true to start with? Why listen to the Syndics? Fear of reprisal? Respect for them as the Gods and rightful rulers of Whitewall? All of that pales in comparison to one simple, overriding point. He had brought life into this world, and no other being stood willing to defend her. He'd been her only option, and he hadn't tried hard enough. Hadn't striven enough to overcome the obstacles. What kind of a Chosen of the Sun gives up?

[roll0] Liiimit. Oh Wic, it's been so long.

Still, that doesn't have to stop him now. Whatever this is, however this has happened, he is here and can help. He needs to help. Wic takes an uneasy breath of cold sea air as he glances down at the flow below him, trying to steady his feet. One step back. Then a second. And then the Monster Maker is dashing forward across the flow; knees bent, centre of gravity low and arms spread behind him. In a second, he's reached the edge of the ice shelf and kicks away; propelling himself forward towards the shuddering figure.

It's not too late. I can still help you. I can. still. help.

[roll1] Dex + Athletics
[roll2] Stunt Dice

[Ascension]

Brown Leaf:

The border between fluff and grief here comes down to Intimacy adjudication. Since talking about her family could bring in her guilt complex... Well, I'm sorry.
Kelam tries to laugh along with her girlfriend, but it comes out strangled. Her left hand falls back into its old reflex, gripping the Mourning Blade, and she sags against the wall.

jes' a rambunctious kid ... some high official's tomboy daughter.

"No..."

Images of a life long-lost spill into her mind, a life of struggling for scraps of dignity in the stacked slums of Wu-Jian, a life of happiness won through hours of sweat and lost in seconds of blood, a life that, in her darkest moment, proved hope itself to be a lie.

"It wasn't like that..."

She wants Leaf's arms around her, wants Leaf's kisses to drive her memories away, but Leaf is all sharp laughter and bright smiles, and in this moment her good cheer burns Kelam like the Sun.

You aren't meant for the light, the whisper hisses, dredging up memories of a little girl who was not yet Kelam, who was not yet even Mourning Blade, squinting up past the overhanging eaves of the upper floors of a ramshackle apartment complex, trying to catch a glimpse of the hidden sun.

And a bitter surety of purpose wells up from within Kelam. The cold mask Leaf poked fun at slides back into place. The girl who washed with salt water from her mama's scrub bucket is dead. But the woman who lives won't let the black voice stained into her soul be right. She won't hide from the light any more.

"But I am being silly," she says, now standing erect, her voice now firm. "Let's do this properly."

She takes Leaf's hand and begins to stride back across the street toward Wafting Sweetness's bath. The doors of the bath seem to shudder slightly, and drops of reddish liquid well in the eyes of the top left carving of the goddess.

Wic:
For Reasons(TM) I have decided to delay posting Wic's next segment somewhat.

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf stared after Kelam for a moment, stung, before she was pulled along. She had to take several strides for each of Kelam's. "Now, now wa..." She started to protest, then felt how tightly Kelam gripped her hand, saw the knuckles tensed white. With a feeling of apprehension, she looked past the dark folds of Kelam's blue-swathed armor and saw what she had expected, Kelam's hand clenched on the hilt of her sword.

Soon, I just need to clear the matter up with the valley, then we can save the world and I can help you, Chéri. Just...be okay until then.

"...wait a sec, Chéri. I kin tell that things ain't playin' out how you wanted." She planted her feet, unconsciously shifting into a lower-body Tiger stance, though above the waist she remained relaxed. "So let's do what you want. The way you wanna do it. I been draggin' you all over the city t'day..." She relaxed her stance once Kelam stopped tugging, and shifted her grip. Each of her tattooed, calloused fingers threaded between Kelam's, pale and delicate, though with the even callouses of a sword-master. She took a moment to appreciate just how dangerous her partner was, briefly remembered the deadly conflict between them those few months ago, how the woman surging with fel power had sheathed her screaming weapon and conceded, rather than fight to the end. How much willpower had that taken? How might that contest have ended, had Kelam been intent to kill from the outset? No, her lover was a complicated woman, and Leaf longed to explore those complications, break down the barriers and see the intricate patterns that made up the woman who had teased out such strong emotions.

She took a breath. "...Daan'd's way is t' ride the currents. T' flow an' see where the tide takes us. I been tryin' too hard t' be Paisap, holdin' firm an' pushin ahead. You take me where you wanna go, I'll follow yer lead..." She folded her right hand over their intertwined fingers, and leaned against Kelam's shoulder. "...wherever you wanna take me, I'll go willingly."

[pfm1995]

Tuoni swore under his breath. He'd not noticed her weaving at first, he'd been more focused on her voice as he started, but something about it had seemed so deliberate, so familiar, that of course he'd succumbed to temptation. So, when he swore, his voice rang clear and absent his usual slurred speech patters.

"I am a shaman of Linowa and a Masked One besides." He said in the weaving tongue. "Husband to a god and father to her children. Killer of-" and his voice seized for a moment as, belatedly, he realized this tongue didn't have a word for 'kill' that wasn't also 'murder'. Not in the way he meant it. "Killer of gods, men, and more besides. In my time and in my travels, I've learned many strange things."

He shrugged his shoulders, hoping to take any edge out of his words. "You asked for an explanation, I hope that suffices."

[Eurus]

"Anathema, too. That must help."

Skymoth's tone is smug, almost teasing. While his jab is in Low Realm, the important word is easy to understand in any language. He stands up and leans back against the wall, posture non-threatening, and studies Slang and Tuoni for their reactions.

"You are, aren't you? That boat of yours doesn't blend in very well."

[Malozing]

When Tuoni's voice lost its slurred roughness, Slang struggled to understand the shaman and leaned it as if it would help them to comprehend the strange words. However, Skymoth's comment caused the Tya to stiffen. Their green eyes glanced towards the old woman to gauge her reaction before finding Skymoth's eyes.

"I guess this is a safe place to out your fellows then. If not, then the three of us best not intrude on our host any more than we already have."

Read Intentions on the healer to see if she would raise an alarm or report that Anathema are in town.

[roll0]

[Ascension]

Tuoni, Slang, Skymoth:

"Ancestors preserve me," the elder murmurs, in Low Realm.

She reaches into a nearby basket and pulls out a finished wrap, cowries sewn along its border. Hastily, she draws it around her shoulders. Tuoni can read its patterns, and they are all wards against evil.

"I've little use for Immaculate notions about 'Anathema,' but I know your power is not natural, god-slayer. We remember the sounds, but not even my grandmother's grandmother could recall the weaving words being spoken aloud."

She narrows her eyes, incredulous.

"You steal the wisdom of my ancestors, you boast of felling gods, and you call yourself 'shaman'? The word must mean something different to your people. Here, it requires more than a wedding night."

She shakes her head.

"I will not tell the satrap's dogs that you are here, but your devil knowledge has not won my favor, either. If you want 'native Haborhead weaving' as a memento of your travels, try the marketplace in the Imperial Garrison. They have plenty of trinkets there."

First off, Mal, Slang can tell that she's serious about not intending to raise the alarm.

Secondly, pfm, I'll allow Tuoni to drop Ancient Tongue Understanding to get most of this. It's the dramatic thing to do.

Thirdly, she's making a Persuade attempt to try to get you to leave. It will take rolled social influence if you still want to get anything from her.
[roll0]
Brown Leaf:

When Kelam first turns back to Brown Leaf, there is anger in her eyes. Not anger at Brown Leaf specifically, in all likelihood, but a fury that boils behind her eyes, eager for any outlet. She's set on her self-imposed goal, made stubborn by tortured logic, ready to snap at her girlfriend for interrupting, for holding her back from the scourging fire of self-excoriation.

But then Leaf threads her fingers through Kelam's own, leans into her shoulder, reminds her that beneath calloused skin and corded muscle, Leaf harbors such a soft heart. That yielding nature - Danaa'd's gift - disarms Kelam's intemperance.

She places her left hand over Brown Leaf's right, and she sways against the ex-monk's body.

In a strained voice, she begins, "I don't know what I wan-" but cuts herself short.

"No, that's not true."

She hides her face in Leaf's hair and hisses out a frustrated sigh. Ash and bone she wishes she were about to say anything but the truth. Anything else would be easier. But no, she can't dance around it any longer.

"I know what I want, but I don't know if... we're ready for it," she murmurs. If anyone could see, her pale cheeks have flushed crimson.

"With how some people dress in Harborhead... with you growing up a monk... it may not have occurred to you. B-but all day today... all this talk of b-bathing..."

She grips Brown Leaf's hand tighter. Her heart pounds as fast and hard as it ever did when she was properly 'alive,' and the Element of Fire seems to have taken over her body completely, judging by the heat radiating from her ears, her cheeks, and elsewhere.

"Well... it's enough to give a girl ideas!" she blurts out.

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf had lead what could be called a sheltered life. Her childhood was one of lessons, exercise, high expectations and understated encouragement. Her relations with others had been of love and duty, filial, fraternal and agape. As she had matured she had noticed some altered priorities, momentary lapses in concentration or flitting urges to experience things most outside of her cloistered existence, but she had dismissed those as insufficient rigor or an imbalance in the flow of her chakras, something minor to be stamped out with proper conduct, meditation and exercise. The fact of her own development from a girl into a woman had meant that sometimes she was subjected to the attentions of others, occasionally those with very imbalanced chakras. She had largely ignored these matters, dismissing those persons as simply having insufficient spiritual awareness to recognize how ephemeral their desires were, and then she would make a mental note to return later and explain their errors to them in blunt terms. Today though, today was different.

Flushed faces must be contagious, for Brown Leaf found herself suddenly very aware of heat on her face that had nothing to do with the early-afternoon sun...or perhaps it did. "I...uh...I ain't thought'a that, no."

Once again Brown Leaf felt that urge to run combined with a desire to stay that had dogged her after she had inadvertently outed the nature of Kelam's sword to Ayesha. Part of her wanted to turn and sprint away in a cloud of dust and rubble as unsound buildings that failed to evacuate her path were forcibly removed, and another part demanded that she remain where she was and see this through, no matter how difficult or painful it may be. A third part, growing more vocal with each heartbeat was excoriating the former two urges while egging Leaf on to 'Just go with her!' Without too much difficulty, the latter part of her psyche triumphed.

"But...I'd like you t' show me...share some'a yer ideas."

She guided Kelam back to the counter where the attendant was waiting and likely trying to pretend he had not been listening in. "Hey again, we'd like t' use the women's baths, but we're meetin' some folks here later an' will go inta the mixed baths then. Can we keep our stuff with us, or can y' provide us with a box or trunk or somethin' so we kin' keep our stuff in eye-sight?"

This was about making Kelam comfortable, she told herself. Comfort...excitement too, if it came to that...hopefully.

[pfm1995]

Tuoni's response is a little less measured than Slang's. At the newcomer's interruption his head whips around, and even though the mask hides his eyes the look he gives Skymoth is scorching - literally. The sun streaming down through the broken roof of the hut seems almost to feed off his glare; between heartbeats the air, already hot, became as stifling as a northern sauna and bright as sun on fresh snow. From above, a single feather drifted down.

"I would prefer," the shaman said to Skymoth, his voice clipped, "if for once we could move through a city without incident. Elder," and he takes a moment, swallows, and though he softens his tone as much as he can there's still an edge of anger to it. "I apologize if I offended, though I would ask that you not speak of the most joyous day of my life with such scorn. There is indeed more to being a shaman than a wedding night, but I wonder if you and yours have not forgotten that yourselves? How your gods, your ancestors must have jumped for joy, hearing their old tongue one last time. And it will be the last time - I have no cause to speak it again, and your people have forgotten. Maybe because they believe wisdom can be stolen, when it can only be shared."

Tuoni stood, dusting the red dust from the floor off his hands. "I have been as honest and forthright with you as I felt I was able, and I have meant what I said - if you would like me to leave, I will."

Tuoni will try a roll on his way out the door. Hoping to catch on any intimacy relating to preserving old traditions.

[roll0]

[Eurus]

Skymoth grins widely. Like a wildflower, he thrives in the heat; like the moon, he's brightest when he's reflecting the sun. He decides in that moment that he likes Tuoni, even if his mask isn't nearly fearsome enough -- it should have fangs, at the very least.

"I'll help you get new clothes, if you still want them. There's a few good places around that sell secondhand at a fair price."

He gives Slang his most charming smile, showing off gleaming teeth. "...But foreigners always pay too much for things."

[Ascension]

Tuoni, Slang, Skymoth:

Speaking honestly, I'd like to steer clear of "male outsider knows black woman's ancestral religion better than she does," so I'm going to say she's got an Intimacy of distrust of foreigners to offset her Intimacy in favor of preserving tradition.
Although the elder's eyes widen for a moment at the thought of the opportunity the foreign shaman's power offers, the avenues it could open, she remembers her place a moment later.

"Arrogance again, to presume we did not intend to forget."

She shakes her head.

"I know where I stand in relation to the spirits, god-slayer. I have the humility to know that my tongue is not meant for their speech. I am an intercessor between them and my people, not an equal... certainly not a superior. And I am content in that knowledge."

She begins to unravel the message she wove for Tuoni's eyes, banishing the fabric's memory of his visit.

"Go on, then. Leave me. And take your blasphemies with you."

Brown Leaf:

Roman women didn't use the strigil, but I'm not sure what they did use in preparing for bathing, and Etruscan women used it, so rather than spend more time researching this post, I'm just going to assume the Realm does things the Etruscan way.
Kelam's heart does another somersault as Brown Leaf leads her back into the public baths, her words to the attendant at the counter setting the process into motion beyond Kelam's power to forestall.

"This wasn't the idea I had in mind!" she quietly hisses as soon as the moment presents itself, but she can't hold a grudge against her girlfriend. Any miscommunication on this particular point is simply a reminder of the dangers of speaking euphemistically with someone whose upbringing likely averred the use of euphemism.

While she works to process all of that, Wafting Sweetness's acolyte is going on about how "any rumors you may have heard about our bath attendants being anything less than trustworthy are nothing but malicious falsehoods!"

Kelam is hardly in the mood for his flowery misdirection, so she flashes him her best glare. It's perhaps a bit more murderous than he would expect from the average Dynast, but any suspicions which that might engender are lost in the sudden blossoming of his instinct for self-preservation.

"...but of course, where highly valuable items are concerned, I understand the impulse to exercise an abundance of caution. For the comfort of our honored guests, I will make arrangements, one moment..."


- - -

The experience of the bath initially lives down to Kelam's expectations... the attendant who applies oil to her body and scrapes it clean preparatory to bathing crosses several thresholds she had anticipated first crossing with Brown Leaf... but her mood improves as she gets further into the process.

The tepidarium, or warm bath, a sort of mild sauna, is a Realm addition to the bathing process, and this influence is evident in the construction of the room: suggested prayers to Wafting Sweetness carved into the walls are written in Low Realm script, and they're commingled with occasional remembrances of the Dragons, particularly Hesiesh, Danaa'd, and Mela. The steam that pervades the room is purely a product of the desmense, however, and each breath carries Wafting Sweetness's restorative blessing.

At this hour, the women's bath is pleasantly uncrowded; Leaf and Kelam share the tepidarium with only a pair of aging Shayanti women carrying on a languid conversation with each other in Flametongue. Hiding demurely in her towel, warmed by pleasant steam rather than the glare of the judgmental Sun, Kelam begins to relax.

The hot bath is closer to the hot springs' pre-Realm state. Though covered by the brick dome overhead and brick walls ringing the outer circumference, the pools themselves are natural, divided into gendered baths only by wooden walls of fairly recent construction, reaching to a height of only eight or nine feet above the water. When Leaf and Kelam first enter, the women's bath seems to only have a single occupant, a young Totikari woman. It quickly becomes apparent, however, that she is not a guest. She stands outside the water with her eyes demurely downcast, a towel embroidered with the Cathak mon draped over her arm.

As Leaf and Kelam approach the water they can see, just visible through the water's shroud of steam and murk of mineral deposits, a woman with an Islander's complexion and a clean-shaven head meditating at the bottom of the pool.

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf set down the box containing their possessions atop a flat rock that was relatively dry. The wooden container had a secure sliding top and a wax-covered exterior to keep the damp out, but even so she took no chances with Kelam's weapon and armor, her own clothes as well. She made eye-contact with Kelam, and nodded, both of them had noted the other women and reached a silent agreement not to act. Instead, Leaf crossed to the natural shelf, shed her wrap and gently slid under, holding her breath just long enough to feel the minerals in the water suffuse the roots of her hair before breaking the surface again.

For a woman used to cold stream-water and scrubbing-sand, this was luxury on a grand scale. After allowing herself to enjoy the water's warmth for a moment, she wordlessly slipped behind Kelam and began rubbing her shoulders, back and arms. She enjoyed the sensation of her skin, the small knots of muscle underneath that she worked loose with her gently applied thumbs, palms and fingers. When she could find no more sore spots to massage, she cast about for a comb and was only somewhat surprised to find one. No doubt it had been placed by some enterprising attendant, but the smooth bone teeth were ideally suited to the material sanctum of a goddess of spring-bathing. She began pulling the comb through Kelam's long black hair, first catching in tangles that pulled Kelam's chin up slightly, then carefully working through them. Leaf enjoyed the sight of her hair spreading across the surface of the water between them, the elegant straight strands creating a thick carpet that moved with the ripples that constantly played along the surface of the pool. Suddenly in need of contact, Leaf wrapped her arms across Kelam's collar-bone and pulled her backwards, scooting herself forward on the rock as she did so. They came to rest with the back of Kelam's head against Leaf's chest, Leaf able to rest her chin on her girlfriend's freshly combed hair. She looked down and tenderly laid a kiss against Kelam's forehead, brushing aside a strand of hair with her nose as she did so.

Through all of this, she paid the attendant little attention, though she had already deduced much. The silence, the demure expression, the lack of familiarity in this, the gathering-place of the tribes, indicated that this woman had no tribe. Tokitari she may be by appearance, but if she were to step outside these baths, no attendant would return a weapon to her. She was a slave, worse, she was a slave to the Realm, which meant that if she had children then they too would be slaves. For that matter, she herself might be the child of slaves, and had never known freedom in Harborhead. Indeed, she may be as much a stranger here as her mistress.

Still holding Kelam, Brown Leaf's eyes shifted to the submerged woman. Through the water, little could be discerned. She could be young or old, for that matter if she was under this long, she was almost certainly a chosen of Daan'd, and therefore could be any age and still appear young. She only had the one attendant, which implied she was not of the highest station, but if she were Immaculate, as was likely from her shaved head, then the presence of any attendants at all might indicate she was a person of rank. As her attendant carried the Cathak Mon, she could be here as an Immaculate delegate or a representative of her House. She could be on the staff of the Satrap or merely visiting, itinerant or established.

Whatever the case, her presence forced Leaf's hand. She could be seen as an Immaculate, one openly embracing another woman with affection, a full head of hair and blatant tattoos that were eyebrow-raising if not downright heretical. Alternatively, she could be just a woman, a wandering adventurer in a city that had seen its share of heroes, mercenaries and treasure-seekers, an oddity, but not odd among oddities, and one with a beautiful partner to boot.

Leaf made her choice, she would make her feelings clear. She tilted Kelam's head up and kissed her, holding the position for as long as she liked. When their lips parted, she pulled in her knees, shifted around Kelam and slid down onto the same level as her, the water coming up to her shoulders. She gave a sheepish grin. "My turn."

[Malozing]

Slang bowed their head at the elder’s request. “Sorry for imposing on you, elder. Thank you for the meal.” They handed back an empty bowl as they rose from their seat.

Turning to Skymoth, Slang smiled tentatively in return. “I doubt he would want to forego less sweltering clothes. Having a local guide would be nice. Thank you for the offer.” The Tya chuckled at the Lunar’s observation. “A rite of passage for most travelers I think. Or just arrogance, people thinking something is not worthy of having because it isn’t new or not priced highly.”

Stepping out of the ruined abode, Slang glanced around again before speaking to Skymoth again.

“I have a distinct impression that I should know you even though we’ve never met before.” They slowly offer their hand to the muscular man. "Slang."

[pfm1995]

Tuoni just nods his head, and steps through the cloth doorway.

"I welcome your offer." He said to Skymoth, "Cities like this are infuriating to navigate."

[Ascension]

Brown Leaf:

Brown Leaf's openly displayed affection initially makes Kelam nervous, despite the meditating Dynast's inward focus and her slave's carefully averted eyes, but the water is exquisite... as hot as the attendant at the desk warned, but Kelam is made of sterner stuff than most... and the feeling of Leaf's strong, sure hands against her skin soon carries her mind away completely. Self-consciousness, worry, even the ceaseless whisper of the Void scrabbling at the edge of her psyche... it all falls away. For a little while, her world consists only of heat, and touch, and love.

But then the shoulder massage ends, and Leaf trades places with her. Kelam blinks fuzzily, the changing situation demanding that she regain at least a little awareness of the world around her, extending her consciousness at least far enough to encompass her girlfriend. She reaches out, wrapping Leaf in a loose embrace, and answers the other woman's kisses with light, whispering brushes of her lips, grazing Leaf's cheek, ear, scalp.

Kelam's mind, still fuzzy with happiness and physical sensation, races ahead down indecorous paths, but she's regained enough self-awareness to rein in those thoughts, and her hands move to the relatively safe space of Leaf's shoulders, to repay her massage in kind. Kelam lacks her girlfriend's strength, but she has deft fingers, and-

-and she stops almost as soon as she's begun, suddenly sitting very still in the water. Her senses are acute to an uncanny degree - one of her Exaltation's dubious gifts - and she has a faint premonition she can't ignore.

A moment later, the meditating Dynast stands from her lotus posture, her movement flowing immediately into a martial arts kata. Leaf can feel Kelam's body go rigid in anticipation of combat... the deathknight's right arm reaches from the pool, groping for the box containing her sword... but it quickly becomes apparent that the Dynast isn't focused on the bath's other guests. She doesn't even open her eyes until she's completed the kata.

After she opens her eyes, however, she notices the other bathers quickly. Her slave holds out her towel, but she pays it no heed, her focus captured by the two strangers. Her irises are so dark they're barely distinguishable from her pupils, making her eyes look huge as she sizes up Leaf and Kelam...

Would Leaf try to hide her tattoos beneath the water? You could try it if you like, with a Stealth roll.

You could also roll Perception + Martial Arts if you were interested in analyzing her kata.

[Eurus]

Skymoth practically radiated cheerfulness and self-assurance as he led Slang and Tuoni through the streets. People tended to stare at him, discreetly or overtly -- with the way his skin shined in the light, the powerful grace of his movements, and the smiles he flashed, it wasn't hard to see why. He chuckled at Slang's question, wondering how to answer it best.

"We've not met, exactly, but it seems like we have some shared experiences. I'm sure it'll come to you eventually."

As it happens, the ex-Bride really isn't an expert on the local market. It's not as if he had to go shopping often when he lived in the temple. He does, however, know a few people that are at least somewhat friendly toward him, and probably won't rip him off or sell him out. Golden Dream deals in all things secondhand and repaired, and she's where Skymoth gets most of his essentials, when he can scrounge up a bit of cash for them. She owns multiple stands in the market, heaped with everything from slightly damaged fruit to torn silks waiting for someone to give them new shape and life. Her sons and daughters do most of the selling, but he looks for Golden Dream herself, scanning the crowd until he finds her.

"Anything you need, I guarantee it's here."

[Sticks]

For a moment, Brown Leaf was miffed at the disruption. Kelam's thumb had hovered briefly over a knot of tensed muscle that had been a persistant annoyance since that morning, but the katas of the Immaculate martial artist proved a worthy diversion. She herself had practiced those very katas in the early parts of the year, when her sifu had drilled the initates standing waste-deep in the cold rivers of the valley in the pre-dawn light. The coolness of the memory and the heat of the baths were incongruous, but she enjoyed the brief trip back to the valley of her youth...the valley...perhaps this was an opportunity.

"Very nice. That was Daan'd's ascending kata, weren't it? The one what leads into the Rippling Water Strike?" She leaned forward, and shot her right arm into the air, stopping abruptly in a claw-fist, then whipping her wrist and elbow around to strike again with her knuckles. The action sent a flurry of even ripples out from her that vied for dominance with the ripples of the pool-spouts, and with the ripples caused by the Islander's movements. She settled back down, leaning against Kelam's midriff as her left hand caressed her partner's submerged foot. "You do the form justice. I'm Brown Leaf. My partner here's Kelam. We're bath enthusiasts. Mind tellin' me to whom I have the pri'llige'a speakin'?"

Rolled the Perception+Martial arts in the OOC, got 6 successes on that. Now working on getting into the other woman's good graces. Even if Brown Leaf's over-casual manner isn't to her liking, Leaf is trying to be just enough of a mystery to pique her interest.
Rolling Charisma + Socialize + Stunt.
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Ascension]

Brown Leaf:

Kelam feels like finding a rock and hiding under it when Leaf responds to the Dynast's curious gaze by deliberately drawing more attention to herself, but... that's just Brown Leaf. That's just something she's going to need to get used to. As Leaf caresses her foot, she rests a hand on Leaf's waist, and the touch, the mutual affection, reminds her... yes, this woman is worth the risk of getting dragged into naked martial arts battles.

But she still gives Leaf a pinch and a look of mild admonishment after she describes the two of them as 'bath enthusiasts.'

Leaf's strategy seems to have had the desired effect, however; she's certainly fueled the Dynast's curiosity. The woman arches an eyebrow and steps closer, wading through the steaming water with casual ease.

"You know the fundamentals of Water Dragon, but that's not an Immaculate style you demonstrated. It looked like Tiger, but looser than any school I know."

Her lips pull back in a toothy smile.

"Feral, almost."

She bows, respectfully, in the Immaculate style, then crosses the rest of the distance to Leaf and Kelam's side of the pool and sits beside them.

"I'm Laughing Brook," she introduces herself, "martial arts enthusiast."

She nods to Leaf's tattoos, standing out bright gold against her dark skin.

"Those are interesting stripes you've got there, tiger. I'd be curious to hear how you got them, if you don't mind telling the story."

Laughing Brook's toothy smile reappears, and Kelam instantly decides she doesn't like it or her.

"C'mon. One enthusiast to another."

Brook winks, and it's lucky for all involved that, with Leaf leaning back against Kelam, the Mourning Blade is outside the Abyssal's reach.

Persuade roll to try to convince Leaf to explain her stripes:

[roll0]

[Malozing]

Slang smiled and greeted Golden Dream with a small wave, not wanting to disturb her conversation with another, before perusing the wares. Colorful clothes were folded neatly in several stacks next to a collection of various loose fabrics. They pulled a few items carefully from their piles to get a better look at them before shaking their head and folding the clothes up and replacing them.

"Tuoni, anything-?"

As Slang turned to speak with the shaman, they spotted a dark cloth with a white pattern of cowrie shells and X's. The captain plucked the fabric out of its stack and unfurled it. It seemed to be a light-weight, loose-fitting, long, open coat. The hem did look a little frayed at the bottom, but nothing too noticeable.

‘This looks like it would fit Wic.’

They draped the coat over their arm as they moved to where Tuoni was browsing.

“I found something that might work for Wic. Have you spotted anything for yourself?”

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf drew up straight. Was...was she being flirted with? Why? What kind of monk would flirt with someone they just met? What kind of monk would flirt? That question drew one fairly obvious answer to mind, but it probably was not the correct one for this situation. No, Leaf's suspicion was aroused by this 'Laughing Brook' and her intent chattiness. She had expected grudging acknowledgement, perhaps feigned disinterest. She wanted information from the Immaculate, and was annoyed to find herself the target of exactly the same kind of information fishing she was trying to pull off. For all she knew, the girl could be aware of Lou Kahn and the Valley, looking for insight that might help the excursion. Damn, she was no good at this kind of thing, that's why she hung out with Ivory Knife...who was still back in Chiaroscuro with that damnable dragon.

Realizing she'd let the pause linger slightly too long, Leaf grinned back and gave Kelam's foot a reassuring squeeze, then pushed off and slipped into the deeper region of the pool Brook had just vacated. She could stand here, but it was easier to half-float, letting her heels rest against the bottom. Facing the ceiling, she replied confidently. "Aw, I ain't one t' brag, but I done impressed a right powerful spirit once upon'a time, an that spirit done right by me. Gave me this-here ink t' show what I been through, hard-earned an' hard won. After all..."

She pushed off, propelling herself with small kicks that failed to disturb the surface, turning as she went to return to Kelam's side.

"...the best things is worth workin' fer." She leaned her head on Kelam's thigh in an open sign of affection, then looked up at her girlfriend. She held her gaze, and tried to convey with her eyes feelings she would not let into her voice. She kept that light, conversational, and directed at Laughing Brook.

"We was wonderin' if'n you might be an Immaculate monk yerself, an if so you knew what might be happenin' up at the Fane. We went there first, seemed the right thing t' do visitin' the city, but we couldn't get inside. If'n you tell us that, perhaps we kin' meet up again sometime an' clear an' afternoon for the full story 'bout my stripes?"

Okay, so hopefully that's worth a stunt to add on to Leaf's Resolve (4) Also going to cite Leaf's Intimacy for Lou Kahn to try and boost that resolve, if not, spending a WP. If she's flirting...um...no. Kelam is right there, and if she got the impression Leaf'll fall for anything with Islander features and a shiny smile, she's got another thing coming.

As for her question...damn, that's probably a manipulation roll, isn't it? Leaf has been trying to get by on sheer mystique so far, so I think I can still justify presence.

So that is Manipulation(1) + Presence(3)+Stunt(2)+TDS(1)
[roll0]

[pfm1995]

Walking through the sun-soaked streets, the old woman's unkind words rung loudly in Tuoni's ears. She was his elder, and he hadn't expected her to turn to scorn so quickly - not over something that small. And she was his elder, and more knowledgeable of this place than he could ever hope to be - what had he done to offend? Language was a gift, and loosing it the worst blow a culture could take. Had she resigned herself to the realm then, living in her broken hut? He shook his head. She was old, she was wise, but she didn't make sense.

His mind kept turning. A weaver, a keeper of stories as old as her should be revered by any man - the shaman who had trained Tuoni had only seen thirty-some Calibrations himself, and was already considered a respected elder. When he had Exalted, and the siida-isids had met in council to decide his fate, he had been questioned by Old Gradessi himself. His entourage of spirits flowed behind him like a dragon's tail, the wind itself stilled to let him be heard, and Tuoni had accepted his judgement without question. But this old woman? She was of similar age, but... she was wrong. She had failed her people.

With the Realm collapsing and enemies closing in on all sides, it was hard not to imagine the same happening to Linowa.

Slang's question shakes Tuoni out of his doldrums, and he looks about himself quickly. "All of this... it's all so soft and loose. It would catch on any stray branch or thorn."

[Ascension]

Skymoth:

"Foreign friends?" Golden Dream asks Skymoth with a genial smile. "That's a first. I hope you haven't taught them any of your excuses about how 'Oh, Auntie Dream, I promise I will have the money next week!'"

She shakes her head.

"Or that grin that lets you get away with it."

Brown Leaf:

"I might be an Immaculate monk!" Laughing Brook concedes with, well, a laugh.

She stands and stretches. She doesn't have Brown Leaf's muscle tone, but she's far from average, and Kelam averts her eyes in embarrassment. Brook runs a hand over her cleanly shaven scalp.

"I certainly have the hair for it. And I don't think they teach Water Dragon Style to just anyone..."

She lets that statement hang in the air for a moment, with all its implications about where Leaf's own knowledge of the style may have come from, but she doesn't ask the questions she could.

"But you don't learn the ways of Danaa'd without learning to recognize treacherous waters."

She stands and begins wading away from Leaf and Kelam, back toward her slave, still talking as she goes.

"You're fishing for information, Tiger. But I think, especially when you meet someone like this..."

She steps out of the pool and turns back to Leaf and Kelam, standing with her body on full display.

"...it's important to leave something to the imagination."

She gives Leaf another wink before she accepts the towel from her servant and belatedly covers up.

"So I'll leave you your hidden depths, and you leave me mine, yeah? It's much more interesting that way."

With a casual parting wave, she turns to leave by the door to the frigidarium.

"See you two around~!"

Kelam lets out a breath she hardly realized she was holding.

"I'm sorry I let you deal with her all on your own, Pearl," she apologizes in an urgent whisper, leaning over her girlfriend to look Leaf in the eye. "I just didn't know what to do without my sword at hand."

She seeks out Leaf's hand, interlaces her fingers with Leaf's own, and squeezes.

"I love you..."

She still looks a bit lost, though, the comfort and confidence she'd grasped during Leaf's massage now drifting out of reach.

"Should we... try to pick back up where we left off?"

If you want to timeskip ahead from here, that'd be fine, or Leaf and Kelam could chat for a bit.

[Sticks]

"Sure thing jarabi. But...heh, let's start over, I want that massage t' stick. In fact, now we're alone, c'mere."

Brown Leaf left the pool and walked to a dry shelf nearer to the entrance. The floor looked recently swept, so she laid out a towel and beckoned for Kelam to lie on it, face down. Once she was situated, Leaf went to work massaging her shoulders, arms and back, though at times she allowed her hands to drift down to Kelam's legs where she worked her thighs, calves and feet. As she pressed fingers into supple skin, kneading the muscle beneath, she talked.

"I know you kin handle yerself in a fight, sweetie, I ain't worried 'bout you bein' in harm's way there. I would like ya t' be more confident 'bout yerself outside'a a fight though. Yer amazin' with a blade, an that's a great startin' point. Oh! Found a knot! Yea, I get that one too, but mine's in my right shoulder. Anyway, it's a great startin' point 'cause it means y'know how t' be confident some'a the time, it's jes' a matter'a applyin' that t' everythin'. Now, some folks is always actin' confident, but on the inside they's jes a ball'a troubles an' doubts, that's jes' slappin' a handful'a cow-pie on the foundation an' callin' it a day. What folks really need is t' git them some learnin' on where their confidence is, an' then spread it 'round a bit. That's what I wanna do with you, if'n yer ready for that t'day."

She finished the massage and pressed herself alongside Kelam on the towel, one hand propping her head up, the other idly stroking Kelam from the back of the neck all down her spine. When Leaf caught Kelam looking at her through a dark curtain of hair, her heart skipped a beat. "Damn, but I am the lucky one (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jcRZ_J_VgNc), ain't I?" she whispered.

[Malozing]

Slang shook their head at Tuoni's statement.

"We're not gonna encounter much thick brush around here. Clothes just have to be light and keep you cool around here. If nothing appeals to you, maybe you can just go shirtless like our new friend."

[Eurus]

"Indeed. If you're staying in the city, you want something light enough to let the air through, but solid enough to keep the sun off. You want to wick sweat away from the body, not keep it trapped in. I can't recommend going without a cloak, the weather gods here can be mischievous..."

Skymoth starts holding up various garments, comparing them to Tuoni's height and build. After a moment he assembles a thin white undergarment, a pale blue hat with a neck-covering veil, and a similarly sky-colored cloak, all loose and flowing enough for the heat. As an afterthought, he plucks a wide black sash to use as a belt. There are some patches here and there, not exactly the kind of outfit you'd wear to a ball, but it blends in well for the area. It even compliments the shaman's mask! Skymoth feels quite proud of himself for working on what he assumes is a shoestring budget and still assembling something that isn't entirely drab. Even if it's technically a women's cloak... well, the former Bride doesn't put too much stock in those distinctions, and he figures his guests probably won't know the difference.

"Here, this should work. Oh, and sandals. Hey Aaaaauntie~"

He gives Golden Dream his most coquettish eyelash-bat and his most sing-song voice as he shows her what he's picked, laying it on so thick as to be intentionally comical. Then he laughs. "You love giving me credit, it means you get to see me grovel every week. But fear not, I won't give away my secrets!"

Appearance+Presence to haggle?
[roll0]

[pfm1995]

Tuoni looks at this stranger's frantic fluttering back and forth with bemused confusion - ideas and garments and accessories come and go too quickly for him to fully recognize, much less comment on. The final result, though...

He holds up the cloak, looking around at the crowded market and it's patina of red dust. "All of this... there's nothing 'natural' here, nothing that will make me blend in rather than stand out. I prefer to travel in quiet, and this makes me stand out like a ligth..." as he talks, his eyes wander upwards and he takes notice of the cloudless, pristine sky. "Ah. Objection retracted." Anyone looking up at him would hardly be able to see him at all.

"The outfit is fine, thank you. The hat is unnecessary though."

[Ascension]

Skymoth, Slang, Tuoni:

Golden Dream sighs.

"You had better not, Skymoth! If there were any more of you I would make no profit at all, you know."

She accepts what the mismatched trio are able to offer in payment without further haggling, but she keeps up a constant stream of complaints as she does.

"Would you see my children starve? Is that what you want? Ah! They're all so skinny already, and I know with those muscles you've not been skipping meals. Why, I should..."

There's no real rancor behind the banter, however. It's always like this, and in truth Dream is fortunate enough to endure the occasional visit from near-destitute Exalts. As long as they don't make too much of a habit of it, at least.

With Tuoni (re-)clothed, what's next on the agenda?

Brown Leaf:

"Leaf..."

Kelam scoots a little closer to Leaf on the towel, close enough for their thighs to touch, and that simple brush of skin on skin carries an electric frisson of intimacy. Once again, Kelam has to struggle to remember where she is, and she only partly succeeds. She draws Leaf into a kiss, long and lingering, a kiss that expresses her love more eloquently than her words ever could.

But she freezes again, her body going tense and rigid, as she hears noise coming from outside the comfortable bubble of affection she shares with Leaf. The two older women from the tepidarium enter the spring, and Kelam follows their progress with one open, glaring eye, her mind awhirl as she readies for anything other than what actually happens.

They simply ignore the amorous couple on the towel, heading on into the water without so much as a sideways glance or snide remark. Kelam's held breath gusts out between her teeth.

"Okay, love..."

She presses her forehead against Leaf's, looking into her girlfriend's eyes with open vulnerability.

"...I think I could use that advice."

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf smiled, her brief excursion to heavenly heights brought gently back to the waking world by those vulnerable eyes. Still, such clear passion could be very useful in their exercise...as well as other recently-pondered pursuits.

"Okay, I can tell yer' nervous, so I want you t' do somethin. Les' get in our usual positions fer meditation..." she carefully positioned herself between Kelam and their box of possessions. "...right, not gonna cramp up? Good. Now, I want you t' do this." She raised her left hand, holding it just above the level of her navel, the palm facing outward and the fingers together in a firm curve, the thumb flush with her index. Her right hand gently rested on her right leg, just below the knee as she sat in the lotus position, her fingers loosely extended downwards, the tips making contact with the stone floor. When Kelam mimicked the gesture, she nodded. "Good, that's yer mudras fer protection, an' fer welcomin'. Them two are important fer us, 'cause I need you t' be receptive an' open minded, but also unafraid. That's what we're aimin' for."

She took a moment to admire the effect on Kelam, and though she knew her partner did not yet feel the power of these gestures, she would, given time and practice. She was no monk, but she had discipline, she could hold the balance of energy in her body, split a second into an infinity with her movements. She was graceful and deadly and there was little that walked, swum or flew that could truly challenge her, but she was so afraid. What Leaf wanted was to make her understand that if you are one with the universe, you have nothing to fear, that if you are brave in one moment that you are brave in every moment, and nothing holds power over you for you are the source of all power. The philosophy itself could wait until she was interested, or never, but the understanding was needed.

"Okay, I'm not gonna make you practice full meditation, I know you kin do that. What I need you t' do is is take that passion, what you was jes' doin' with me a moment ago, an' concentrate how you felt righ' here at that moment." She reached out and touched Kelam's abdomen right above the navel with her right hand, felt the soft skin shrink back slightly, then relax. She pulled her hand back into the Varada mudra, and did the same. Instantly, she felt hot, her skin prickled. She wanted to reach out and touch Kelam again, plant kisses on her lips, her neck...but she drew it inward, it was a part of her, and she was her own master. "Once you got it, bring it in. Don't say nothin', I know you kin do it."

She watched as her girlfriend colored, saw the fingers twitch, knew what she was feeling. It was time to be brutal. "Hold that feelin' keep it in you, I know it ain't easy. Hold it in there where I showed you, good. Now, think back to our fight, back on the Island. Think'a the rush, the essence." She knew this was a hard one. If Kelam had her eyes open, Leaf knew they would dart to the nearly invisible scars on Leaf's fingers. "There ain't no shame, nothing but the roar of blood in yer limbs, yer eyes are lookin' fer the next attack, the next openin'. Find that feelin' an' hold it in there with the other one."

As Leaf whispered instructions, she saw Kelam's sword-hand, still holding its mudra, twitch. She had it, she was back in that sun-soaked arena, and Leaf was with her. They were clashing, claw against scabbard, alone this time aside from each other. She felt her muscles burn with the sweet fire of exertion, felt the sand and gravel fly, stinging her legs and arms as they bounced against her skin. This time though, her opponent was not the cold warrior of the underworld, she was aflame, burning with life. Leaf saw an opening and struck, not knowing if she meant to slash or to stroke. As her opponent parried with searing intensity, she pushed in, using her leverage to force the taller woman back, but to her surprise she met the charge and matched it, holding back Leaf's out-thrust hands. Leaf growled and pushed, leaning in further, her chest drawing level with her occupied hands, and the other woman was doing the same, they were face-to-face, straining with exertion, an inch apart. They met, a kiss so full of passion, fury, lust, anger, adoration and love that Leaf, for all her training, was almost overwhelmed. As her stomach churned from sheer adrenaline, she drew back, compressing the arena of her mind back into her solar plexus. She saw Kelam's mudras begin to falter, knew that the experience had been shared, and knew now was the moment.

"Here!" She darted her left hand forward as Kelam was most open, feeling the mixed sensations as Leaf did. Her fingers were still in the mudra struck Kelam in the spot where Leaf had instructed her to gather her energy, and at the same moment Leaf unblocked her own Essence flow. Instantly, the heat that had been gathering there spread up and out through her body. She hoped that this worked for Kelam as it had for her. She was soaked with sweat again, her chest heaved as she regained control of herself. If she had done everything right, Kelam should be experiencing something similar. She certainly had a bright red triangle on her midriff where Leaf's palm had struck her, the shock releasing the fire essence to permeate her body.

Leaf spoke between deep breaths. "That...that's the sensation. You find that...learn t' find it on yer own...an you don't never have't be scared no more, my love."

She glanced around, the older women had left. The two of them had been meditating for hours.

[Ascension]

Kelam goes wide-eyed, her cheeks flushed almost as bright as the mark on her midriff. Her breaths come quicker and shallower than Leaf's; she's no novice when it comes to meditation, but she wasn't prepared for the heat, the passion of this experience. At Leaf's words she feels, faintly, the impulse to deny, to disbelieve, but her doubts waver, rendered ephemeral by a haze of emotion.

The words "It won't last" punch through the fog, and for a moment her arms prickle with goosebumps, but she fixes her eyes on her girlfriend and the warmth comes back to her.

It won't last, that much is true, but Leaf is here to help her find it, to help her learn to grasp it, make it her own. It may be a fight to get there, but fighting is something she knows and understands.

"Thank you... love..." she pants, "I've never... felt like that before..."

She reaches out and affectionately cups Leaf's cheek in the palm of her hand. She leans forward, bridging the gap between them, and steadies herself enough to take a deeper breath.

"Now... what was that you were saying earlier about finding somewhere more private?" she whispers in Leaf's ear.


~ ~ ~

When Kelam and Leaf enter the baths again scant hours after they left, after having spent hours inside on their first visit, and with a flushed glow of happiness on Kelam's face, the attendant at the desk can't help but raise an eyebrow.

Kelam looks him straight in the eye and says, as serious as the grave, "We're bath enthusiasts."

When the couple make it through to the mixed bathing area of the main springs, they're met with an unusual panorama. To the left side of the pools, a male Islander bathes, surrounded by a mixed entourage of Harborheadites. He has his arm around the shoulders of the woman at his left, and he openly leers at his other companions. A local family soak at the far side, occasionally shooting disapproving glares toward the Dynast's hangers-on. And to the right...

...to the right, Slang's head is barely visible above the water, half-hidden behind the muscled form of an objectively beautiful Harborheadite man. To the other side of the mortified Tya, while Tuoni's mask is still firmly in place, an alarming amount of the shaman's flesh is on display. Winter may not have scarred him so deeply where skins and furs protected him, but he has lived a hard life overall, and the perfection of the stranger's body so nearby amplifies the distinction.

"...who is that with them?" Kelam whispers to Leaf.

Meanwhile, a sensation not quite speech whispers at the edge of Tuoni's consciousness. A faint tremor runs through the worn wood of his mask. A spirit seeks a voice.

[Sticks]

"I got no idear. Dagnabbit, he ain't been gone more'n a afternoon an' they already plumb forgot what Wic looks like!"

Leaf made the jibe with a playful grin, but she really was curious. Carefully navigating around the edge of the pool, she smiled at Kelam and hoisted their box of clothes, armor and Kelam's sword onto one hand, to better hold her towel in place. She crossed to the right side of the pool, Kelam following, and deposited the box neatly against the wall, unobtrusive but within reach. Carefully folding her towel-wrap atop the box, she slid into the water near the Captain.

"Ahhh, I ain't never gettin' tired'a this. Beats cold streams or sea-water any day in my book."

She offered Kelam a hand into the pool, then aimed a joking elbow at Slang. "So, no sign of Wic, but you found the platonic ideal'a a harborhead man. Where'd you find 'im? Who is he? Any ideas 'bout Wic, Cap'n?"

[Malozing]

Slang snorted at Leaf's comment of them forgetting what Wirric Stanton looked like. They watched the two women make their way to the group.

The Tya winced as the former monk's elbow grazed their side, but lifted their head more above the water to reply.

"He-" Slang gestured toward Skymoth with a wave. "Appointed himself as our guide after following us around for a bit. He's like Qhispe."

Slang shifted to lean their head against the bath's edge, careful to keep their chest under the water.

"As for Wic," The captain threw their arms upwards in a frustrated gesture. "I can't find any trace of him. It's like he vanished into thin air!"

[pfm1995]

Tuoni sits on a ledge high in the bath, only a few inches of water protecting his modesty - not that he seems to mind, as he raises a hand to acknowledge Brown Leaf and Kelam. While the bath and the water are wonderful, what he's really here for is the steam. It wafts over his skin light as a feather, soothes his many puckered scars, and holds him close and safe. It reminds him of home.

But there's a feeling there that isn't only the steam, though he'd thought it was at first. He raised a hand and traced a line down his mask, feeling the beads of water pool under his fingers, and reached out along the connection he and the mask shared. What is it?

[Eurus]

Skymoth in a public bathing area probably counts as a drowning hazard, considering how many double takes and surreptitious stares he gets, but he seems to be enjoying himself. He's relaxed and actually a little less chatty than usual, willing to just soak and enjoy. Part of him is thinking that he should have gone for a run before this, though.

"I take offense to that remark," he shoots back at Slang's last comment. While he never actually met Qhispe, he's heard a bit about her... enough to not be impressed.

He rises to his feet (water cascading over his body like something out of a cloistered monk's most indecent fantasy) and smiles broadly at Leaf and Kelam. "I'm Skymoth. Figured I'd make sure none of you get into too much trouble while you're here, eh?"

[Ascension]

Kelam, still standing and wrapped in her towel, blinks with a not inconsiderable degree of astonishment as Skymoth stands. She normally maintains a cool indifference toward men, but it's impossible to ignore a display like... this. From across the pool, the lounging Dynast ventures a wolf whistle.

Even the spirit at the edge of Tuoni's consciousness lets out a gasp.

"You are foreign to this land," she... Tuoni is reasonably certain the spirit is female, now, so she... whispers to the shaman through his mask once she's recovered her thoughts, "but there is power in your bones, power in your mask. Surely you don't fear the monks of the Isle... Surely you would suffer a goddess to speak to her people, in her place of power? Let me in..."

[pfm1995]

Even Tuoni's head is knocked back a bit by Skymoth's indecent display; standing behind the Lunar, he misses the full-frontal force of his assault but even he's forced to admit those are some very nice shoulders. Fortunately, a distraction avails itself.

I was relaxing myself. Tuoni mutters, at least in his head. But who are you, what kind of god are you, that you cannot speak to them yourself? I see your likeness on the wall, you still have followers here. I have some power, true, but I like to think that it was not gained foolishly.

Truth be told, Tuoni was curious - he didn't know that he could quite remember his mask reacting in this way before, and who was this goddess that she needed a stranger to speak for her? Curiosity would be his doom, he was sure of it, but for now he was willing to sit and listen.

[Sticks]

Leaf laughed, she couldn't help it. "Well, the fact that yer willin'ly standin' pretty in a bath alone makes ya diff'rent from Quispe, Skymoth. But I get what y' mean, Cap'n."

She stood as well, took a sloshing step forward and shook Skymoth's hand in the manner unique to the physically mighty, no bone-crushing grips, just a mutual firmness that spoke volumes to each other. She released his hand, then fell back alongside Kelam. "I'm Brown Leaf, an' this-here's my partner, Kelam. By the way, nice delts." She indicated Skymoth's shoulders, keeping her tone casual.

She then glanced at the dynast and then looked back to Skymoth, speaking more quietly. "I'd like t' chat more, but honestly you won' be dealin' with us fer long. We need t' leave this city soon, jes waitin' on our last group-member t' arrive. He knows we're comin' here, so we should wait 'til he shows, but right now what we don't need is any more surprises."

I'm going to say that Leaf has gained a minor intimacy of respect towards Skymoth. We'll just call it 'Skymoth: Nice.'

[Ascension]

A faint impression of laughter echoes through Tuoni's mind.

"I could manifest myself in the physical realm this very moment, or send portents and omens for my followers to interpret. But then if the Immaculates came asking, I wouldn't be able to blame it on you and say 'but an Anathema made me do it!'"

A subtle vibration in Tuoni's mask gives the impression that the goddess is circling him, observing him from different angles.

"And you're not staying in the city, I hear, so the malus won't fall on you, either. I just want to have a brief word with the Lunar... deniably."

[Malozing]

Slang rolled their eyes at Skymoth. "Thank you for getting my meaning, Leaf. I don't know if he'd-"

It took Slang a moment for Brown Leaf's words to sink in.

"Wait, we're leaving already? What did you do?!"

[Ascension]

"It's not her fault!" Kelam insists, defensively.

She wades into the pool until the water comes up to her knees, but hesitates before going further. A glare toward the Dynastic voyeur only draws a grin, so she keeps her towel for the moment and turns her attention back toward Slang. She drops her voice to discourage eavesdroppers.

"She didn't do anything wrong, but we learned her home valley is in danger. We need to move quickly... with Wirric's sorcery, if possible... to get there before... our enemies do."

[pfm1995]

I should just get a banner to hang over my head... Tuoni grumbled. It would be less noticeable.Very well, I will help you talk to the Lunar - be polite, even in this place you are my guest.

With that, he stands - as unconcerned with modesty as Skymoth, though he doesn't carry it nearly as well - and strides over to tap his fellow Anathema on the shoulder. "A goddess wishes to speak with you." He said simply.

[Sticks]

"Thank chéri, but I'm hopin' they ain't gonna be our enemies an..."

Brown Leaf began to speak, but stopped, turning her attention to Tuoni.

[Malozing]

"Ah." Slang sheepishly scratched the back of their head. "Sorry for jumping to conclusions. This group does tend to find some sort of trouble, sooo..."

Tuoni's announcement to Skymoth drew the Tya's attention to the two.

[Ascension]

OOC:
Recommended reading order:

Valin, please start with the second IC spoiler. Everyone else can start with the first.
The Public Baths:
The white-painted wood of Tuoni's mask trembles, its shuddering noticeable enough for others to notice. Its face, typically blank but for the shallow scars of battles long past, suddenly isn't. First its cheeks fill out, then plump lips appear, a flaring nose, an abstract indication of hair. Only the eye-holes remain unchanged, and Tuoni's eyes behind them, the rest of the mask is changed to a vision of a Harborhead woman, her tribal ethnicity unclear, her features beautiful with a defiantly pre-colonial sense of beauty.

For any who studied the older statuary in the baths' lobby, the face is unmistakable. This is the visage of Wafting Sweetness, the Steam Vent Goddess, patron of this and other springs throughout Harborhead. The local family bathing nearby take notice and genuflect as best they can when half-submerged in steaming water, murmuring prayers. The Dynast half-rises from the pool, and his eyebrows rise further.

"Is that sorcery?" he asks, curious rather than outraged.

The goddess's voice issues forth from the transfigured mask, fluent Flametongue in feminine tones, only slightly tainted by the slurring echo of Tuoni's own voice underneath.

"I was angry when I first sensed you bathing in my waters," she says to Skymoth, with stern dignity, "but then... I realized..."

Suddenly her sternness vanishes, eclipsed by welling emotion. Relief? Enthusiasm? Just a hint of vindictiveness?

"He left you too, didn't he?!" she gushes.

Before Skymoth has a chance to process that question, the orange disc of the sun touches the Western rim of the world, and in that instant the sunset intrudes into the bath chamber itself. A dull orange sphere appears above the bathers' heads, surrounded by flitting tendrils of dusk, violet and navy...
Wic:
Wic's timing is poor. Another wave ripples through the water as he pushes off of his ice raft, spoiling his jump, and only the toe of his boot reaches the platform where his daughter waits. He slips on the wet lip of the ice raft, his foot, his leg plunging into the frigid water. He's able to arrest his slide into the water with his hands, but from the waist down he's submerged. The cold wastes no time stealing into his bones, within moments he's already losing feeling in his toes.

"Father!"

His daughter rises to her feet, her cloak falling back. She has the body of an adult woman now... or perhaps that of several adult women, fitted together with more enthusiasm than skill... and her right arm is truly monstrous: massive and muscular, dotted with patches of bristly hair, with unnatural joints and claw-tipped fingers. Despite this transfiguration, she rushes to aid her father with all-too-human concern... and all-too-human short-sightedness.

Her shifting weight tilts the ice raft, tipping Wic further into the water. The paralyzing cold rushes upward through his body... his grip loosens... his daughter's monstrous paw reaches out too late, a futile gesture...

Wic slips down into the water. It soaks through his clothes, soaks into his skin. And it's so very, very...

...hot?
Everyone:
The sunset orb hanging above the bath implodes, and one Wirric Stanton, Esquire, Monster Maker, exile of Whitewall, itinerant alchemist, erstwhile passenger of the Tya ship Remora, returns to the realm of existence.

Gravity wastes no time in reasserting its hold on Wic, and the Descending Sun hurtles downward. Kelam's combat instincts register the falling object as a threat, and she backsteps out of his path, leaving him to land, with a loud splash...

...directly atop Captain Slang.

The Dynast springs to his feet and wades across the pool as quickly as he can, his sheer excitement evident on his... face.

"If that was sorcery, you have to teach me!" he shouts at the dazed Wic.

[Inspector Valin]

"AAAARRGH!"

No one ever accused Wirric of an excess of dignity. The sorcerer cries out at the fall that seemed unending, at the image of the girl with the mighty arm fading away from him. At the growing heat that was enveloping him. Slowly the sorcerer starts register the shift from chill to scalding, the little sounds of others in the water, the sight of others around him. He blinks, eyes adjusting slowly as he gazes about the scene.

"What.... where... Captain?! Brown Leaf? Everyone?"

Wic looks surprised beyond measure. It takes him a second to realize exactly how he landed, and that realization is... not one that manages to do much to calm him down. Even as the warmth of the batth takes hold of him, it's easy to see the blush spreading across Wirric's face. He pulls himself upwards swiftly, hands raised in quick apology. "Sorry! Ss-sorry, Slang. I hadn't expected... this"

What 'this' is seems rather unclear, even to Wirric himself. He sinks back into the bath beside the dynast, barely noticing the water continuing to soak into his clothes, muttering half to himself half to his new friend. "This... isn't the White Sea. She's not here. Was I dreaming? But I wasn't asleep. I wasn't anything. But if I was nothing how could I be there?"

Where once Wirric's mind would race, a combination of sudden heat and sheer inability to correlate his situation with what has now happened has left the master sorcerer quite confused. He's starting to relate to that strange woman with the pipe he met in Nexus once. Now though, he looks intently at the Dynast: gesturing across the bathhouse with the air of one who has finally solved a mystery. "This has to be the dream, right? Right. That makes more sense." Wic chuckles in satisfaction, resting his head against the side of the bath. "I think I'm dying. The cold does strange things to the mind. I'm dying and I'm thinking about everyone... at the bathhouse. All together, smiling and having a good time and..."

The trailing off is accompanied by a red faced glance at Captain Slang. Wic starts to slowly sink deeper into the water, eyes closed. He can't bring himself to finish that train of thought aloud, even in a dream. He can't just surrender to this. Maybe if he focuses he can wake up still, save himself, save his daughter...

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf was as startled as anyone by Wic's sudden reassertion of existence, she was also motivated. That was her best means of transport resignedly slipping beneath the warm scented waves of a perfectly lovely bath. She rushed over to where the sorcerer sunk, churning up the water around the dynast's...legs.

"A'ight brother, up an' at' em. Ain't nobody got time t' sleep under-water, 'cept Daan'd 'a course. Hey! Eyes up an' exercise some self-control there, you rascal." This last rejoinder was directed at the excitable dynast. She stuck her hands beneath Wirric's armpits and hauled him bodily out of the water, squinting her eyes against the cascade that poured off his heavy robes. Still holding Wic aloft, she turned him to face her, and placed him down on his feet.

"If'n you done swallered any water, best t' cough it up all dignified-like. There's a lady present." She indicated the perplexed mask-face of the goddess atop Tuoni's nude form. Boy-howdy, ain't this a situation.

[Ascension]

"You know this man?" the Dynast asks Brown Leaf. "Is he on drugs? I think he's high on something, it sounds like he's hallucinating."

He turns back to Wic and raises his voice.

"When you teach me that teleportation spell, you have to tell me where you got the drugs, too, okay!"

Watching all this unfold, Kelam takes a moment to simply facepalm.

[Eurus]

By the time Skymoth can absorb what's just happened, he breaks into a snorting, slightly waterlogged laugh. He's not quite clear who this screaming falling man is, but it's definitely kind of comical. The interrupting Dynast just makes it even more so.

He has to take a few breaths to calm himself, and he throws an arm over Tuoni's... the goddess's? No, it probably still counts as Tuoni's shoulder. He's not the most tactful fellow, but he has an inkling what this is about, and he tries to guide the channeling shaman to the most unoccupied corner of the baths.

"If you're speaking of the Long-Horned Bull, then... yes, I suppose he did. It was rather rude of him, but I like myself too much to waste time on resentment. I hope I haven't caused offense, goddess."

[Inspector Valin]

"Okay. Okay. Ohhkay."

Wirric takes a second to steady himself, looking down at his feet and taking a breath of stifling sweet air, before turning his gaze up to his circlemate, looking a touch pained but resolute.. "Leaf, I need you to answer this very carefully. Is that a lady?"

He gestures across to the figure in the mask, and then to the Dynast at his side. "To me, that looks like a naked Tuoni with a woman's face. This man might be right: that sounds like a hallucination, doesn't it?" It really does. Wic turns to the rather loud stranger, growing a touch more confused as he tries to explain. "I knew they were coming here. I could be imagining this. Though I... don't think we've met before. So does that mean I'm not hallucinating? Or are you a metaphor for something?"

[Ascension]

Since I think it's the only language Wic and Brown Leaf share, I'm assuming Wic is speaking Old Realm now.
"Speaking Old Realm in such a state!" the Dynast exclaims. "He's truly a dedicated student of the occult!"

He switches to Old Realm himself, speaking with a heavy accent, but fortunately better fluency than Drogath managed.

"We are not the hallucination, honored teacher. I am Ragara Molo, and these are... your friends, I think. But you could not have come from the White Sea..."

A thought comes to Molo, and his eyebrows seem on the verge of attempting flight.

"...unless your power is truly beyond my ken!"

Wafting Sweetness, meanwhile, is taken aback for a moment.

"...no, you haven't caused offense," she says, after a pause, "but I hoped you'd learned resentment. It's no waste... It's no less than he deserves. He cares only for himself, you know. Not for the women he steps on as he climbs to power."

[Sticks]

Leaf gave Wic a quizzical look. "Boy, if this is yer hallucination, you tell me what I'm doin' here nekked. An' then you bes' hide yerself from Kelam. Anyway, yea, that's Tuoni. We're in them baths I was tellin' errybody about 'afore you gone an' bunked off t' Mela knows where. The baths are the sanctum of Wafting Sweetness, who ah...." She paused as she considered the most delicate way to phrase her description. "...Is sacred 'round here, an used t' dance with Alhat, if'n you take my meanin'. 'Parently Tuoni caught her attention, an' she's got somethin' t' say t' Skymoth. Oh yea, that brother there's Skymoth, he's like our tree-friend, if'n you take my meanin'. He done attatched hisself t' Tuoni an the...Cap'n!"

She turned away, bumping Ragara Molo, whom she was pointedly ignoring. "Kelam! Is the Cap'n okay!?"

[Inspector Valin]

"Ah. A tree man. And the bathhouse. And a scion of Ragara." Wic nods repeatedly in the hope that will make it appear as if he knows what's going on. At Leaf's mention of Slang he's about to follow her to assist the good-Tya... before remembering the good-Tya's state of dress, and stepping back for a second. Leaf can handle that: the former Immaculate seems entirely too comfortable with mass nudity, a trait the private and secretive Wic has never shared. Best not to risk helping poor Slang from the pool only to drop them back in again though a nervous twitch.

"I... need to think." Wirric mutters in Skytongue. He takes a seat at the side of the bath, not seeming to notice the water soaking into his trousers. 'Being surrounded by naked people' is the sort of thing that makes Wirric uncomfortable as a rule, but his mind is far too distracted right now for that. After a few seconds though, he turns to the Dynast at his side, speaking now in High Realm.

"Tell me, Molo. What is Somewhere?"

The question might be abstract to the point of nonsense but the man seems like he's interested in esoterica and with the heat and humidity of the bathhouse, Wirric isn't in a position to choose his phrasing carefully. Still, he knows enough to at least try to begin at the beginning. "I should have been Elsewhere. Nowhere. Suspended between time and place, hung upon threads of essence outside of being. A nonentity until the sun set and I appeared somewhere. Here, specifically. Though I intended to be anywhere else, that's ultimately a side issue."

This is the important part. Wirric meets Molo's gaze with wide eyes, trying to communicate the sheer wonder of the truth with his would be disciple. "Because I wasn't truly Elsewhere! I definitely existed, in some way. I was in the White Sea with a girl... a woman, now. Who I had not seen for far too long." His mind drifts back to where it'd been just minutes ago, suspended above that endless sea. "We talked. She was upset. I tried to go to her, to comfort her and apologize. I slipped, and fell..." Wirric trails off, before turning a quizzical eye on Molo as he starts to question those last four words, growing more excited as he continues. "Did I fall? Was that real? Could I have made some mistake, and my non existence faltered into some kind of half reality? Was it a dream we shared, our fates tied together in the great Loom, spanning across the world? Can you dream from nowhere though? If I was truly nowhere, I could not exist and therefor could not dream."

Wirric sighs, laying back against the bathhouse floor and closing his eyes. "If I were to break through the gates of Yu Shan, could even Heaven itself tell me the truth of it? Of her? I've spent my life pondering such questions and I scarcely know where to begin: what chance has some poor meger god of understanding such things?"

[Malozing]

As Wic stumbled over his words, Slang flushed and sank deeper into the water.

‘At least I still had my bindings on…’

The Dynast and Leaf’s attention seemed solely focused on Wic, and Tuoni and Skymoth have turned away from the Tya. Slang glanced around at the other bathing groups. Ragara Molo’s companions and the family on the far side all had turned their eyes towards the sorcerer.

Quietly and quickly, Slang moved out of the pool and towards their belongings. They grabbed their clothes and ducked into an alcove behind one of the statues to dry off and dress in some semblance of privacy.

Brown Leaf’s voice suddenly shouting their title caused Slang to jump and bump their elbow into the stone statue. Hard. Slang muffled their grunt of pain with a hand as they glanced back at the group, hoping that no one will notice their little hiding spot.

Dexterity 4 + Stealth 5+ Stunt 2 [roll0]

[Ascension]

Brown Leaf's question catches Kelam off guard.

"The captain? They're right..."

The word 'there' dies on Kelam's lips as she turns and sees a conspicuously empty patch of water where the Tya's head had previously bobbed.

"Don't panic!" she immediately assures her girlfriend, even though there's a rising note of fear in her own voice, "I'm sure they're okay, I'll find them."

She closes her eyes and focuses purely on the sounds of the bathing chamber, parsing and filtering information with a killer's instinct as her hearing sharpens to superhuman acuity. Not the babble of conversation, either loud and close or distant and whispered. Not the lap of water or the faint sigh of rising steam. Not the sounds of her own body, rushing blood or churning stomach. She listens for the sound of breathing, counting the breaths, comparing them against her mental map of the room...

"...I can't place them..." she realizes, with dawning horror.

Maybe there's just too much unfamiliar background noise... too many people, too many languages, too many sounds from the bath itself... or maybe...

Maybe they aren't breathing any more?

"I will find them! And they are okay!" she swears, a little too loudly. With dramatic determination, she throws her towel aside and dives beneath the surface of the near-scalding water, ready to save her captain... her friend... from a drowning death.

Meanwhile, Molo stares at Wic.

"I don't know whether to be in awe of his occult understanding or in awe of the quality of his drugs!"

After a moment's thought, he considers, "Maybe both. They do say altered states can be a key to enlightenment..."

He snaps his fingers at one of the men amongst his gaggle of companions.

"Scribe! Record this man's wisdom for contemplation!"

While the very naked and very wet scribe goes rushing off to find pen, ink, and paper, Molo sits by Wic's side.

"You attempted to breach the realm of Elsewhere?" he asks, fully invested in Wic's rambling now. "I have only read of one man who attempted that feat before, and it is said he never returned from the journey!"

[Eurus]

Skymoth grins, bright and dangerous. There's no subtlety in him, but then, there's not much subtlety in a bolt of lightning either. His voice is easy and playful when he replies.

"I don't think I qualify as a woman, but I understand what you mean, and I can't argue with you there. I think sometimes that he's forgotten that consequences apply to everyone, even gods. I meant what I said... I don't see much of a use in holding grudges. But I didn't say I don't take my revenge."

[Malozing]

As Kelam dove into the steamy waters, Slang, fully dressed, stepped out from their little hiding spot with a couple of dry towels folded under their arm. The only sign that the Tya was even in the bath was water dripping from their hair and onto their shirt. They walked over to Wic and plopped down next to him. Slang offered Wic the towels without making eye contact.

"Here. If you want to get into some dry clothes, I, um, got some that looked about your size. They're by that statue." They pointed out the very statue that hid them from view moments ago.

The moment Kelam surfaces, Slang called out to her.

"Kelam, I'm over here." Their tattooed face started to flush again. "I just needed to get out of the baths. Sorry. Didn't mean to worry you."

[pfm1995]

Tuoni is surprised by Wirric's sudden appearance, but not that surprised - the shaman is a copper spider as well, and well familiar with the tips and tricks of their breed. He takes a few quick steps out of the splash zone, his feet tearing up small sheets of water, before settling facing Skymoth again. This is what you wanted to speak about? Comparing old flames? And this could not have been done without me, because?

The conversation Wirric is having is much more interesting. From across the room, Tuoni does his best to listen in even if most of the concepts used are foreign to him. This talk of 'Elsewhere' made no sense and sounded like some fey trick - which, knowing Wirric, it very well could be - but matched what he had experienced the last time he'd needed to run and didn't care where to. This talk of a woman, though, that was new.

"He's lucky." Tuoni calls out, interrupting the goddess' and the Lunar's gossiping. "That he found himself here is a blessing - he could very well have wound up..." and his voice catches, not wanting to reveal too much. "...elsewhere."

Not all places of power are friendly.

[Ascension]

"Without you this would make even more of a scene," Wafting Sweetness communicates to Tuoni, "and the Immaculate monastery isn't the only other temple I'd rather didn't hear of this. But stay focused, please! I need to hear more about this..."

"Revenge," she says out loud, reclaiming Tuoni's voice for the moment. That word has certainly caught the goddess's attention.

"What kind of revenge?" she asks. The question isn't suspicious, but expectant. She wants to revel in the details of any embarrassment Ahlat may have suffered.

Meanwhile, as Kelam surfaces, her panicked expression gives way to shock.

"Slang! Captain!" she blurts out, "I'm so glad to see you! You're... very hard to notice!"

The outburst briefly distracts Ragara Molo from his study of Wic's ramblings, and he nudges his fellow sorcerer with his elbow.

"Now, I'm glad to see her," he says, with a leer at Kelam. "Knew it'd be worth waiting for before she dropped the towel; nothing about that figure's hard to notice."

'You could easily kill him, you know,' a certain dark voice reminds the deathknight, 'And consign his soul to the oblivion of the Void.'

If you want me back on the team, this strategy is a major improvement, Kelam thinks.

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf bristled. She saw Kelam's face, and could guess what was transpiring behind those cold, beautiful eyes. She made a small gesture with her hand, catching her girlfriend's attention, and tapped herself just above the navel with the same hand. Remember here.

Molo had stepped forward to leer, he was right behind Leaf. She turned the long way back around to Wic, and her elbow swung wide. With casual force, her hard joint drove into his midriff, right in the Fire chakra. She tried to play it off, not especially caring if she sounded sincere. "Well now the Cap'n's oka OH I'M SORRY!" She half-stumbled against Molo, her foot slid under his as he staggered. Still seemingly off-balance, Leaf twisted, lifting her foot and taking his with it. "WHOOPS!" To any casual observer this would seem the awkward movements of a clumsy person up to her knees in water. To those who knew otherwise, it was a classic leg-sweep right out of Tiger style.

I could see an argument for this being a Manipulation roll, but I'm going to stick with good old DEX. Leaf isn't exactly trying to be subtle here, just expedite karma a little bit.
So that is DEX+MA+Specialty+Stunt, and throw on a single Excellency to make it even.
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

[Ascension]

Technically speaking this should require either a grapple and throw or the use of Tiger Style's Raging Tiger Pounce, and would initiate combat either way, but... it amused me as written, so let's run with this.

Two-point stunt, and...
"Woah, careful- HEY!" is all Molo manages to say before he is dunked suddenly and gracelessly into the water.

Kelam knows just where she could place her foot to ensure that the Dynast never rises again. Drowning is an awful, agonizing death, and her imagination is eager to point out how the temperature of these springs would enhance the man's suffering. Would he feel the scalding heat through the inner lining of his lungs? She's willing to bet he would.

But she drives back those thoughts. He resurfaces, sputtering and cursing. Kelam tenses again as he looks toward Brown Leaf, but he's merely frustrated, not looking for a fight.

"Watch it! Safety's no joke! Fella could get hurt..."

His scribe returns before he gets much further than that, and his attention soon returns to Wic.

"But right, yes, what's this about Elsewhere? Please share!"

Kelam, an arm now drawn protectively across her chest, sidles up next to Brown Leaf.

"Thank you," she murmurs, "but he's already back to normal."

She sighs.

"When I left the West, I hoped I was leaving that kind of behavior behind. But men can be pigs anywhere. Especially with power backing them. How do you face that?"

She rubs idly at an old battle scar on her arm, a faint line healed almost to the point of invisibility.

"Maybe Slang and their crew have the right idea."

[Eurus]

"Well..."

Smiling nostalgically, Skymoth starts to recount a story.

"After the Moon touched me -- that's a different story, I'll tell you about it some other time -- I went to Ahlat to ask what I should do. He was quite miffed about the whole thing. I think he saw it as Luna stealing one of his wives, the daft bull."

"So, after a bit of a tantrum, he decided to keep me locked up in his palace. Even though I was no longer of interest to him -- didn't have the right parts anymore, if you catch my drift -- he just couldn't bear the thought of one of his Brides leaving. He set two of my sister-wives to ensure that I wouldn't escape, which was quite the trouble for me, because even if I fought or snuck my way out they would be punished for it."

"Well, I don't mind telling you that I'm not the most clever about these things. Frankly, I was stumped. Finally, I asked Luna for guidance before I slept, and in a dream she gave me inspiration. I turned into a bug, small enough to slip out of the room I was imprisoned in and go about unseen, and I whispered to Ahlat while he slept. I used my old voice, the one he remembered, so that he would dream about me. Sure enough, he came to visit me the next day."

"Though he disliked my new form -- or claimed to -- knew how to flatter him, and my charm is considerable. I convinced him to drink with me, and then to drink far more than was wise. Trust me when I say that it takes a lot of liquor to lay low a god like Ahlat; I had to use all my skill to keep him from realizing that I wasn't drinking one tenth as much as him."

"Well, finally the fool fell asleep, so I took my chance. I cut off his most prized possession -- the thing that makes all those wives worth having in the first place, if you catch my meaning -- and hid it! When he woke up, he was understandably furious, but I had him quite over a barrel. I negotiated my freedom in exchange for his missing piece, and forced him to release me."

"Fortunately, I was long gone by the time he noticed the little memento I left him. Should you ever be in a position to inspect it, you might notice my name tattooed on the underside."

[Sticks]

Somewhat mollified after sending Molo crashing to the surf, as it were, Brown Leaf returned to Kelam's side and hugged her girlfriend close, nuzzling the underside of her chin. "It's easy, jarabi. You jes' gotta be more powerful'n them. Don't matter none if'n they don't know you are. An' you," she placed a finger delicately on Kelam's breastbone and ran it down to just above her navel "are more powerful'n any man yer likely t' meet."

Leaf lay back and reached for a flask of lavender soap. Today's bathing and...other experiences...had had their therapeutic effect, now she just needed to be truly clean. The sooner they all finished up, the sooner they could get away from the prying, leering Ragara and she could brief everyone. While today's activities with Kelam had been wonderful and novel, the fear for her home had never quite departed. Even meditation, post-meditation experimentation and now Skymoth's admittedly hilarious story weren't able to drive it from her mind. She needed to let them know, and if they would not or could not follow her there, she'd set out at first light, alone. Without Wic, her own feet were faster than any other options they had, and it was her responsibility alone to be there besides. Still...she did not wish to leave anyone behind.

She paused in her scrubbing, staring into the pool, her pensive reflection stared back.

[Inspector Valin]

Wic moves to assist Molo after the Dynast 'fell', with an apologetic glance to Kelam and Leaf. He's starting to regain something of his faculties, and while the Ragaran Heir's attitude was distasteful, what sorcerer can resist a willing, educated audience? Once they're both seated again, Wirric coughs politely, "Well, calling Elsewhere a place is something of a simplification, in the same way as calling the Wyld a place might be."

Sighing pleasantly, the sorcerer takes a deep breath before beginning. He's starting to actually feel at ease here: keeping his clothes on certainly helps, but getting to address someone about esoteric cosmological matters is quite enjoyable. "While locations and items could in theory exist Elsewhere, and do, the lack of the elements that underpin Creation and even most of the realms beyond makes it a confounding place. The Wyld possesses motive force: things continue, exist and change. Thus there is a sense of causality. Both Malfeas and the Underworld abide by similar laws. Elsewhere lacks that quality however: it's a place defined as the absence of place. there is no inherent energy as I understand it, thus there is no possibility for time to progress or items to move. As such it would be more accurate to say I was attempting to be partially Elsewhere. To suspend myself outside of space and time, but tethered to the cycle of the day and my rough physical locale. Hense my reappearance now."

It's strange, as abilities go. Less a spell and more something inherent to his Exaltation. Wic takes a quiet second to ponder the origin of this strange trick before returning his attention to Molo, "The idea was that I'd return to reality given a few hours grace. Which did work. But doesn't explain my seeming trip north. or... her." He looks down at his own hand with a quizzical smile, bemused by the scenario. "I can't determine if it was real. I was about to fall into water... but then I fell into the water here. I dream seldom but that doesn't make it impossible. We talk in dreams."

He ponders the question for a few seconds longer, before a hypothetical solution comes to him. He looks to Molo, searching for a second opinion. "Should I dispatch bound elementals north? It'd take some time to summon them, but they could search the White Sea, find..." The image of the solitary figure, suspended there on the ice alone, finally catches up with Wirric. The sorcerer looks deathly pale, even in the midst of the steam and heat of the baths. It could have been real! She could really be out there, right now! And he's just been sitting here talking? There's a newfound urgency in Wic's eyes as he tries to explain to Molo, "I should! I need to! She was stranded out there! Alone, with no supplies! If there's a chance that was real..."

His own question answered, the sorcerer starts to clamber to his feet. Unless someone intervenes Wirric looks set to leave the bathhouse then and there, likely to go outside and start his summoning rites in the street if need be. His summoning ritual that takes hours of intense concentration and no movement.

[Malozing]

Slang snorted as Leaf knocked Molo into the water for leering at Kelam.

They were finding it hard to understand everything Wic was rambling about, but the repeated mentions of the White Sea and a woman paired with the sorcerer’s sudden manic urgency suddenly reminded the Tya of their conversation about the Twilight’s missing daughter.

Slang quickly followed Wic out of the bathhouse and placed a hand on his shoulder to guide him to a quieter side street.

“Wait a sec, Wic. I’m guessing you might have just seen your daughter because of whatever you did to vanish on us, and I promised to help you whatever way I can.” Slang gave Wic’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Though Leaf was hoping you could fly us to her home. It’s in danger and that all I know. She was waiting for you to tell us more about it. How long will it take to summon the elementals? Would be faster to send Camellia and Briar?”

Slang thought for a moment. "If they're not suited for the job, maybe we can grab whatever you need for the summoning and bring it with us. You can focus on summoning while the rest of us deal with whatever is going on in Leaf's home valley once we get there."

[Inspector Valin]

"Captain..."

Wic has to take a second to register that. And notices, seemingly for the first time, the towel and clothes he's clutching that Slang had handed to him. The sorcerer coughs, trying to compose himself a little, "I don't need much in the way of materials. If need be, we can go right now. Briar and Camellia aren't equipped to explore the northern oceans, but I can start to raise a force once we reach the valley. Summon a flock of Thunderbirds, or perhaps some Cloud People... or Tidemares if I could return to the coast briefly..."

It doesn't matter in this moment. Wic bows his somewhat dripping head to Slang, glad of the solidity of their hand on his shoulder. Looking up, Wirric smiles warmly at his friend. "I... thank you, Captain. That whole experience left me discombobulated. It's been a long time since I was that unsure of reality." It's a little... awkward. Wic can't quite work out what to say, though a part of him is quite unsatisfied with simply that. He glances back at the building they've just emerged from, chuckling a little. "Never been comfortable with public bathing either. Whitewall's just the same: people eye strangers cautiously, but everyone drops their guard as soon as their clothes come off. Fools. Used to go to the baths only for the last hours of the day, trying to make sure it wasn't too busy."

[Malozing]

“Yeah, that was busier than I would have liked as well.” Slang gave Wic’s shoulder another squeeze. “You can to the ship and get changed in privacy. I’ll let everyone know we’ll gather in the mess for Leaf’s full explanation of what is going on and figure out how and when we are going to tackle everything.”

With a light pat on Wic’s shoulder, Slang turned back towards the bathhouse’s entrance. Once back in the mixed bathing area, the Tya moved to the rest of the Circle were gathered. Slang pitched their voice low to discourage Molo or any of his followers from listening in.

“Wic’s head back to the Remora. That might be the best place to talk anyway, so let’s finish up soon.”

[Ascension]

"Wait, hold on!"

Slang need not fear Molo or his entourage listening in on their words to the rest of the circle, for by the time the Tya returns to the baths, the hastily half-dressed Dynast has already rushed out into the street.

"You promised to share your sorcery with me!" he yells after Wic. He draws plenty of stares from passersby... his speech, still Old Realm, is strange, and he's still noticeably damp, bare-chested, and bare-footed... but he seems undeterred by the scrutiny and disapproval of the public. He's equally undeterred by... or has entirely forgotten... the fact that Wic made no such promise.

He pads after the sodden Northener.

"You can't just leave," he pleads, "We can figure this out together, Elsewhere and everything! I've access to all Ragara's libraries here! You need my help!"

Meanwhile, back in the baths, Tuoni's mask laughs. Wafting Sweetness laughs with unrefined, unrestrained mirth.

"Now that is a tale worth telling!" she enthuses, as soon as she's regained her wits. "I promise you, you will always be welcome at any of my springs, for as long as you should live."

She drops her volume and shifts to a seductive tone entirely incongruous with Tuoni's naked body to add, "Come after hours, and I'd be happy to meet you in the flesh..."

[Inspector Valin]

"That..."

Wic stops, more than a little startled by Molo's return. The thought of someone so enthusiastically seeking his company is... strange to the sorcerer, a concept he's unsure what to make of. But it's hard to be too suspicious of a man willing to run out into the street without his shirt on. Wirric chuckles, studying Molo's desperate carefully. "I did not make such a promise to you. But it is the duty of a sorcerer to pass on knowledge where he can, to enrich the lives of those he passes by. And I appreciate a willing ear."

The sorcerer gestures his counterpart back to the alley he and Slang had occupied a moment prior. No sense in letting the poor man talk in full public view like that."Leave what I want to one side for now. What do you seek? You're a child of the Scarlet Dynasty, heir to the Imperial Bank, with all those great libraries at your command. The world is yours for the asking. Why do you care about what little scraps of knowledge a wandering sorcerer has to offer?" He can speculate, and has internally. But better to let Molo tell his own story; leaving Wic free to judge him with as few preconceptions as possible.

[Sticks]

Her washing completed, Leaf stood and silently indicated to Kelam that she was done. Slang had gone after Wic, and while she was pretty sure the keen-eyed Tya wouldn't let the sorcerer out of their sight again, she didn't want to chance losing him for another day. She removed their box to a secluded alcove, and opened it. The Mourning Blade rested atop her carefully folded clothing, and beneath that was Kelam's armor and clothing, and Leaf's chainmail. She paused, her eyes traced the black-blue scabbard, the intricate abstract patterns of the tsuba, and the sharkskin-wrapped hilt. She also felt in her heart the memory of the sword's scream when it was drawn, the shifting patterns in the metal that marked it as soul-steel. It would only take an inch of that metal, a tiny loosening from its sheath and that scream would rip out again, with all that entailed for Kelam...Hurriedly, Leaf pulled her clothes and armor out of the box and slid the heavy lid back into place.

Holding the bundle of coverings, she turned to Tuoni and Skymoth. "Lady Sweetness, thank you fer allowin' us inta yer sanctum t' enjoy your water. It is without peer in the south, fer sure." She gave a deep bow, then retreated to the driest spot and dressed, wearing her mail between her undershirt and gi. She stepped into her straw sandals, and made a mental note to search for replacement weighted clothing when she reached the valley again. She stayed with the box, her mind wandering back towards towards the sword, and everything that was left to be done.

[pfm1995]

Tuoni lets out an entirely undignified - and, honestly, pretty uncomfortable-sounding - snort at Skymoth's tale, his laughter cut off at the knee's by the goddess' sultry offer through his own mask. "That's enough of that." The shaman said, half-strict, half-still trying to clear his throat and stop his laughing. "Enough! If you wish to flirt, do it on your own time - I'm not some match-maker, and even less a voyeur. And you," and even if the mask doesn't change, a jutting finger and squared shoulders make it clear he's talking to Skymoth now, "you..."


...have wounded the pride of a proud, proud god and his wrath will be magnificent to watch - from a distance... But Skymoth had already escaped Ahlat's wrath once before.

...should have been thankful someone loved you so, was jealous enough to want to keep you even among his many... But there was nothing of love in Skymoth's tale, just possession.

...should be more careful! Anyone could be listening, Immaculate or worse... But the old woman had already recognized them, and that had been Tuoni's fault.

...are going to be trouble...

Tuoni sighed and straightened, letting the last of his chuckles escape his lips. "Nicely done - I hope you're a fast runner, I do not know much of Ahlat but I do not think he has a short memory. Now, if you're finished," he said, speaking to the goddess in the mask again, "I'd like to finish my bath. I don't know what everyone's rush is."

[Eurus]

Skymoth nods with apparent solemness. "I am a very fast runner."

Then, he casually flops backward into the water. Since Tuoni's friends presumably wouldn't actually leave without him, as long as the Lunar stuck close to Tuoni, he should be able to ensure the other Solars didn't slip out of town without him noticing.

[Ascension]

Wafting Sweetness harrumphs in Tuoni's mind.

"Fine," she admits audibly, "I can see I've overstayed my welcome. But wherever in Harborhead you encounter a heated spring, I won't be far. See you later~"

The goddess releases her hold on Tuoni's mask and, with a shudder, it reverts to its accustomed blankness.

Meanwhile, out in the street, Molo's entourage arrives piecemeal, having taken more time drying and dressing than their benefactor. One woman drapes a robe over his shoulders as she arrives, and a manservant kneels in the dust to force sandals on his feet. Molo stays focused on Wic through all this, and eagerly follows the Northern sorcerer into the alley.

"You're interesting," he says in answer to Wic's question. "You don't see many Northerners around here..."

He snorts a laugh.

"Much less Northerners who claim to have come direct from the White Sea, or from Elsewhere. I have libraries, and aunts, uncles, tutors, peers, that is true, but I have no one like you. No one who uses Old Realm for casual conversation."

He shrugs.

"Maybe you're a god, or a ghost, or even an Anathema, I don't know. But I don't see any monks around. And I've always enjoyed unwrapping a mystery. Won't you stay?"

He snaps his fingers, says something curt in Flametongue, and one of his hangers-on steps to his side, opening up a small leather-bound codex.

"Name your price, I can pay it."

[Inspector Valin]

Wic can't hide a chuckle at the appearance of the budget-serf. Molo might be a Dynast by birth, but running so quickly to his finances is almost nostalgic to a child of the Guild. Smiling, the sorcerer shakes his head at the eager Ragara. "You're bidding against Heaven on one hand, and my daughter on the other. You're not going to win that war with money."

Still, he doesn't exactly look like a man eager to leave the alley either. Instead, Wirric's eyes turn upwards: first towards the Garrison, thence the Fane. The two great centres of geomantic power in Kirigast. They might not be the Hortatum's mysterious target, but having them loom over everything has brought that entire unsolved enigma back into Wic's mind. He should start work on trying to answer the question of what goal the Hortatum might be seeking in the great Manses of the South... and Molo has gifted him an ultimately enjoyable way to do so, provided he can turn this situation around a little.

Wirric sighs, turning back to his new friend. "I have duties to attend to. Duties that require swift and overwhelming action. But they will not last forever... and I too would enjoy the company." True enough. As much as Wic appreciates his circlemates, there are still things he doesn't feel exactly comfortable sharing with them. Folk like Brown Leaf and Tuoni have such a different perspective to his own. Thus any chance to speak with someone like Molo at length is rather tempting. The sorcerer waves back at the bathhouse, "If you are willing to extend your hospitality to me and my friends when next we pass through here, it would be my pleasure to research at your side. I fear no book will answer my questions about that dream, but there's another question that has been rattling around the back of my mind for a few weeks now. A rather difficult problem that..."

Best not get into half of the Hortatum's secrets now. Even Molo might not believe him on that one. Wirric snorts to himself at the thought. "Well, suffice to say I have been unable to determine so much as where to being. Perhaps together we might make some headway. In exchange, I will talk freely on whatever topic you care to ask of me. My years as a page in the courts of the Raksha, my experiments in my home city, tales of the lands I passed through on my travels south, my thoughts on elemental binding... whatever you wish to discuss, I will speak on." Wic winks, taking a second to compose one more brief sentence in Old Realm, for Molo's sake. "Including things not fit for Immaculate ears. If so you will it."

Trying to let Molo down gently with an offer to come back later. Wic's sincere about it too; he'd enjoy it, and it's relevant to tracking down the Hortatum.

[roll0]Charisma+Presence+HPM
[roll1] Stunt Dice

[pfm1995]

Freed of sharing his face, Tuoni flops back down onto the ledge and lets out a short breath. "Finally." He looks to Kelam and Brown Leaf, and the water must be doing something - sitting in the steam, he sounds softer and less tense than he's ever been. "Sit. Relax. Things can wait, for a moment."

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf decided that if she was going to wait, she didn't have to do so ankle-deep in hot water on an already muggy evening. She walked the edge of the bath, smiling and inclining her head to the family, and cast withering glances towards Molo's swiftly retreating entourage. She reached the door, and leaned against the wall with Captain Slang. She looked the Tya over. They sure had gotten dressed in a hurry, and where nobody could see, right after Wic had dropped on their head...

"Hey, 'member that night in Champoor? When you done gave me a heart attack an' tol' me Kelam were sweet on me? I owe you fer that. Also fer fundin' our date back in Chiaroscuro. Yer a good egg, Cap'n Slang."

She leaned in and lowered her voice. "I might jes' be tellin' stories outta school here, but I reckon Wic's processin' a lot right now. I don't wanna lose track'a him, but I ain't leavin' Kelam an' Tuoni here. If'n you go t' Wic, you kin make sure he ain't 'bout t' fly off t' the middle'a the frozen sea or go archive-divin' with that Wizard, he's liable t' be influenced any which-a-way right now..." She paused, and when she spoke again her nonchalant tone was undermined by the conspiratorial glint in her eye. "...an I don't think he'd deny yer right cute with yer hair wet, cap'n."

With that, she turned and began walking around the other side of the pool, an innocent spring in her step.

[Malozing]

Slang rolled their eyes when Tuoni insisted on continuing to lounge in the baths. “Public baths aren’t exactly relaxing for me,” they muttered under their breath.

Slang grinned at Brown Leaf when she mentioned Slang sneaking up on her. “If you think you had a fright, ask Zalm about when things went missing or got moved about for a few days on the Ono. The crew swore there was a ghost or a spirit on board.” Though to be fair, Zalm was more startled to find a barely teen girl sleeping behind a random crate in the corner of the hold.

“You don’t owe me anything for blabbing. Maybe for paying for you two having a good time, but not for idle chatter.”

“I think you are underestimating Wic. He and I already talked about how we need him to transport us to your home. He’s not going to run off…”

He did take to talking with Ragara Molo, and Molo seemed to be able to keep up with Wic’s train of thought better than Slang.


"...an I don't think he'd deny yer right cute with yer hair wet, cap'n."

Leaf’s words snapped Slang out of their thoughts.

“Now, I think you’re reaching there. We’re just friends.” Even with the denial, a blush began to spread across Slang’s face.

"I better go check on... the crew."

The Tya hurried out of the bathhouse once again.


-----

Voices, specifically Wirric Stanton's voice, from the alley caught the Captain's attention. It seemed Molo distracted Wic like Leaf predicted, but at least he was saying what the Dynast needs or wants will have to wait.


"Including things not fit for Immaculate ears. If so you will it."

Slang coughed at those words.

[Ascension]

Molo sighs.

"So you're not just a wandering soul. Duties, family, friends..."

He notices Slang as they cough.

"...a captain..."

He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair.

"Not so romantic as I thought. But fine, fine. I can't say no when you tease me with stories of Raksha and strange experiments. Just..."

He places a companionable hand on Wic's shoulder and looks the Northerner in the eye. There's a surprising vulnerability in his gaze, a surprising loneliness.

"...be sure you come back, okay?"

Dammit, an adult man with a worrisome habit of objectifying people has no right to puppy eyes of this magnitude! There's even a little lip quiver, just subtle enough it's not cartoonish! Molo is a frighteningly skilled wheedler.

Let's call this an Appearance + Presence Persuade roll aimed at compelling Wic to keep his word, with 2m on the Presence Excellency just for good measure.

[roll0]+1 success. I'll roll any bonus non-charm dice from 10s in the OOC

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf kicked off her sandals and sat on the box, her feet dangling in the water. A small part of her wanted to grab Kelam, Tuoni and that new hunky guy and drag them out of the baths by their ears, but she tried to ignore it. There was nothing to be gained in haste, and the baths had been her idea, after all. She somewhat regretted getting dressed already, as the water was still beautifully warm and inviting, almost as much encouragement as seeing Kelam relaxing in it.

Might as well make conversation. "So, Skymoth. I figure you done attatched yerself t' Tuoni there. Are you plannin' on comin' with us? I don't figure any'a this group been up-front 'bout where we's goin' or what we're doin' when we git there."

[Eurus]

Skymoth replied with a sweet laugh, letting himself unravel in the heat. He'd have to give a little prayer of gratitude to Wafting Sweetness, he supposed. It was an excellent bath.

"Suits me fine! I never know where I'm going or what I plan to do when I get there, anymore. Comes of having spent my life as a nun, I suppose... when you suddenly get freedom, it's hard to decide what to do with it. I literally don't have anything better to do than tag along with you until I get bored. Plus, a few of my... well, I hesitate to call them friends, let's go with 'peers'... advised me to keep an eye on you all."

[Inspector Valin]

"Ehehe..."

It's hard to keep up the 'dignified sorcerer' look when you're blushing beetroot red, and not sure which of your two friends it'd be more embarrassing to make eye contact with. Sun above, why did I try and sell it like that? Seven Venoms Sea had more mercy than Ragara Moto. Coughing, and futility trying to centre himself, Wirric nods to the puppy Dynast. "You have my word. I... told you, companionship and sharing knowledge is part of sorcery, or at least it should be."

He gives Slang an apologetic look, before turning and starting to make towards the Remora. He doesn't need any more embarrassment tonight.

[Sticks]

"Used t' be a nun? I don't mind tellin' you I used t' be a monk! Seems t' me we done lived each other's life." Brown Leaf laughed. She was quite warming to this newcomer.

"Though if'n yer story you told Lady Sweetness were true, sounds like yer experience was a bit dif'rent from mine. Never had no reason t' amputate divine appendages among the Immaculates, though I reckon some'a my old peers wouldn't say no. They'd reckon it'd solve a few problems. D'you know anythin' 'bout the Sand's Edge Valley? It's where I wanna take us next. I figure you been 'round here more recently'n I have, you might know the local gossip better."

[Malozing]

Slang eyed Molo cautiously. With his puppy-dog eyes and pout aimed at Wic, the Tya thought the Dynast acted like a child who was used to get what he wanted. As if the soft eyes guaranteed it, Wic promised to come back and indulge the man, and it irked Slang.

However, Wic’s flushed face and apologetic expression distracted Slang momentarily from Molo. The Twilight rushed passed the Night in the direction of the Remora, and that eased some of the tension that Slang didn’t know was knotted in their stomach. They moved to follow but paused and looked back at the Dynast and his entourage.

“You better not try to take advantage of any of my friends.” And with that said, Slang trotted to catch up with Wic.

They didn’t say anything as fell into step with the sorcerer, but as they came within sight of the Remora, Slang cleared their throat.

“Sorry for- I- um…” Slang just floundered, not really sure what to say.

[Eurus]

"I've never had a reason to go there, but I can probably ask around if you give me a few hours. Most of the small towns around here are all the same, I have to say."

Small towns were the worst of two worlds, Skymoth thought. Give him the bustle of a city or the vitality of the wilderness, not this listless in-between of bleached farmlands and dusty shacks. Still, he'd endure the trip if he had interesting company.

[Sticks]

"Heh, folk from the city may say so, but I know there's nowhere like it." Brown Leaf laughed, then grew more serious.

"But whattabout not wantin' us outta yer sight? I figure nobody else kin' go with ya without standin' out, an' I...kinda mucked it up already. At least two Immaculates know of me, an' if'n I'm seen runnin' around wit'cha they'll know t' watch you too. All I know is that the Immaculates an' the Brides'r interested in my home, an' I need t' get there fast. If yer comin' t' help I won't turn ya down, but I'm afraid we're walkin' into a powerful ugly sitchiation."

She wanted Skymoth to come, she really did, but there were too many factors in play already. It sounded as though he had some connection to the Brides of Alhat, but what it was remained elusive to her. He was charming and open, but he could also change his shape, if her experience with Quispe showed anything. That held all sorts of implications for his role. He was certainly not with the Immaculates, which was good enough for now, but it didn't narrow down his loyalties much. What did Sifu always say when dealing with tricky, powerful beings who greeted you with a smile? "Trust, but verify."

"I...I think you oughtta stay with us, we might be leavin' in a mighty big hurry soon, an' I don't want you left behind if'n you wanna come."

[Inspector Valin]

"It's fine! It's fine."

Wic sighs: he meant it, but it's hard to sound convincing when he's still embarrassed by it. His pace starts to slow as he and Slang draw closer to the harbour, the sorcerer striving to explain his thought process once again. "He's got access to libraries we can't just walk into. I thought he might be able to help us find our mark. I... was trying to make sure he'd let me come back to do so after we've made the trip to the valley. Might have gone too far trying to be persuasive."

That was likely an understatement, to put it mildly. And simplifies his feelings a touch, but that's a side issue. Wirric takes a breath, looking up at the Remora with a grateful smile, before turning back to Slang and nodding to them. "I'll be back with you as soon as I can. I promise." Unless something prevents him, Wic moves to board the ship, return to his cabin and change. Despite his failure to exist for most of today, it still felt far too long.

[Eurus]

Skymoth flashes Brown Leaf a grin, bright and unconcerned.

"I'm a warrior. Ugly situations are what I do, and any Immaculate who challenges me is going to be lucky if I credit him enough to notch my spear after I clean him off of it."

Her advice seems sound, though. Skymoth wasn't much of a tracker, so letting these Solars get away from him would be risky.

"We'll find out the details soon enough when we get there, I'm sure."

[Sticks]

"Ah certainly hope so. It's been two years since Ah left home. If'n somethin' happened to the folk in the sev...six villages I'll be mighty upset."

She leaned on her knees for a moment, then waxed philisophical. "I 'spose that's what it's all 'bout, ain't it? Havin' somethin' t' protect? Tuoni, you've got yer family, Cap'n's got their crew, sounds like Wic finally found somethin' he cared 'bout enough t' wanna protect...an' me an Kelam got each other, right hun?" She smiled at her girlfriend, not as brightly as Skymoth's dazzling grins, but still full of intimate meaning. "Heh, guess I jes' don't like givin' up on protectin' stuff. I ain't never gonna be done carin' bout that valley an' the folk in it...how 'bout you, Sky? Got somethin' you wanna protect?"

I suppose this would be a read intentions roll. Leaf isn't expecting Skymoth to lie, but she's hoping to provoke a reaction so she can gauge him better. Going with basic dice here.


[roll0]
[roll1]

[pfm1995]

While the other's were talking, Tuoni had slowly slid back into the water until there was nothing save his mask still on the surface, and it looked for all the world that it was just there, sans person, bobbing in the water. It was peaceful, and Tuoni felt his muscles relax as the stress of the past few weeks is washed away.

Brown Leaf's mention of his name only lightly drifts through the water and his contented bubble; a few heartbeats later he sits up. "Huh?"

[Sticks]

"Huh?"

"I was just sayin, we all got somethin' t' care 'bout, t' protect. Yer a family man, right?"

Brown Leaf was splitting her attention between the two men and Kelam, but she had the presence of mind to wonder if she hadn't said too much already. Tuoni had not reacted well to Quispe's nature, after all. Perhaps his toleration of Skymoth did not extend far enough to give out the existence of his family. Damn it, had she done it again?

[Eurus]

Skymoth laughed, stirring the water with one finger like a little whirlpool. "That's very noble. But if you only fight to protect what's yours, you'll never get anywhere else!"

The question of why he's willing to fight seems like an odd one, to Skymoth. He'd just said he was a warrior, hadn't he? Warriors fight.

"I'll fight to uphold my honor, or to win glory. To defend my people, or good people anywhere. To punish the wicked and strike fear into my enemies. And if I can't find any of those things, I suppose I'll find someone to fight for fun."

[Ascension]

Kelam fidgets uncomfortably in the water. She should've gotten out and dressed when Leaf did, but if she did so now, by herself, it would just call attention to her. She glances over to Tuoni. She's vaguely glad that the shaman has been enjoying this, but the relaxation she felt with Leaf earlier has all faded away by now. She's just overheated, overexposed, and impatient.

"Those villagers Leaf mentioned are 'good people anywhere,'" she reminds. "And their hour of need approaches. Shouldn't we be moving on?"

[Malozing]

Slang watched Wic disappear below the decks. With a quiet sigh, the Captain stepped onto the Remora, and the living ship's essence rushed and swirled underneath Slang's feet. The energy brought an image of the two Greenmaws jumping excitedly around and on Wic to Slang's mind, and that started to lift the Captain's mood and placed a smile on their face. 'Hello to you, too.'

Glancing around the deck, Slang saw Briar and Camellia lazing about in the shade of the green sails and Zalm leaning upon the main mast. The first mate was directing some of the crew in where to store new supplies. Slang looked back to where Wic was headed for a moment, but they shook their head and headed over to Zalm.

"I'm glad to see we got enough for Leaf's tiles to resupply."

Slang paused and thought a little bit about Brown Leaf and the situation in her home village.

"I might need you to take over for a bit, Zalm. We, or well Leaf and Kelam found out that the people Leaf grew up with are under threat. We'd have to go inland to help 'em."

Slang shifted nervously. Sun, it's like they're back to being that uncertain green sailor again. "I don't want you to think that I'm leaving you or the crew behind. I'm not sure how long we'll be away, but I'll come back." They give Zalm a crooked smile. "I am Tya first."

[Ascension]

Zalm's own lopsided smile reflects Slang's. The former captain reaches out and ruffles the Night Caste's hair affectionately.

"I know you are, kid, and you know I can take care of this ship."

They give out a chuckle.

"Folks ask a lot more questions since your friends turned the ol' Remora halfway into a tree, but you don't have to worry. If they get too nosy, we might put out to sea for a bit, but I'm sure that blond boy you like can get word to us whenever you have a need. At least if you can keep him from running off on his own again. I could lend you some rope... I've always thought men were easiest to handle when they were tied up, anyway."

Anticipating Slang's response, Zalm can't help but preemptively grin.

[Eurus]

"Fair point!"

Sighing and stretching, Skymoth rises from the water. He barely bothers with drying off, just shaking his body a little before he throws his loincloth and cloak back on. Being dressed -- even though "dressed" is a relative term where Skymoth is concerned -- makes the steamy air much less comfortable, and he starts to want to get out almost immediately.

"If you lead, lady, I will follow."

[Malozing]

Slang's faced flushed when Zalm mentioned the younger Tya's crush, and Slang almost choked on air when the First Mate jokingly offered to lend them some rope.

"What is with people today offering me love advice?!" they asked between gritted teeth. "Am I really that obvious, Zalm? Leaf mentioned earlier I should... Wait, did you put her up to that?"

Slang shot a glare at the older Tya.

[pfm1995]

"Yes." Tuoni answered simply, though if Brown Leaf was expecting any more detail she was going to be disappointed. He wasn't going to be talking about his family here and now, not in present company at least. Instead, he turns to watch everyone begin to climb out of the spring with a soft sigh of disappointment. It had been nice while it lasted, to just drift and relax and forget. To not have to worry about Immaculate monks, or angry gods, or his own circle-mates.

He surged out of the water, already back to his stern self, and stepped lightly over to the towels and his folded clothes. There, he dried himself thoroughly. Very thoroughly. By the time he was done, you'd hardly have thought he'd been in the water at all, and Brown Leaf might have thought he was stalling if this hadn't seemed so normal to him. And, to him, it was - water was death, in the frozen north. Going outside wet cost you fingers. So ti was a few minutes before the shaman, too, was dressed and ready to go. "May I ask, how are we getting to this little village? Sailing over land again?"

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf offered a hand to Kelam and held open the box for her to retrieve her possessions. Turned slightly away, she addressed Tuoni over her shoulder. "I ain't sure that's an option this time. I thought Wic might have some kinda spell t' git us there lickity-split, but if not...Well, les' jes' hope he does."

Leaf found herself uncharacteristically burdened by worries. Besides the matter of the village and the Hortatum, and if they were connected, she found herself facing two fresh conundrums.

The freshest worry was for her relationship with Tuoni. Had she offended the Shaman? Were families really such a fraught issue for so many? Was he taking so long on purpose so she could stew? If he was, it was working. She could never really read Tuoni, but it could be the case that the enigmatic Twilight possessed a vindictive streak that he hid behind his mask. Certainly, he had been able to rile Wic up...but then that boy was wound tighter than a half-obol clock by default. Thinking of the sorcerer...

If Wic didn't have the means to take her there, or at least not everybody, then she might have to go alone. Her travels had hardened her physically, she could probably reach the valley days ahead of any army, but what of her responsibilities here? Kelam had been so distressed at the thought of her leaving for just a day, what effect would a longer separation have? If the others went somewhere else, sticking to the coast, would she be able to find them again? Could she even handle whatever awaited her alone? A few months ago, these thoughts would never have occurred to Brown Leaf, Immaculate Monk of the Unconquered Sun.

"Right, anyway, let's git goin'. I'll show ya the way, Skymoth. I gotchyer parasol, Kelam. Ready? Let's go."

[Ascension]

Zalm laughs at Slang's accusation.

"I didn't, but if that monk could tell how you're feeling, did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

Zalm rubs the old tattoos banding their forearm, faded with age but still unmistakable as the Tya's mark.

"You give a sailor their ink, that's a bond closer than blood. But don't you go and start worrying that the boy might've caught on, too. I've never been able to follow much of what he says, but I'm under the impression that one lives inside his own head more than the world that's past his nose."

They shrug.

"That might make things easier if you're just looking for some fun, but-"

A call from a lookout mercifully spares Slang from further relationship talk. The group that stayed behind in the baths has arrived... Skymoth included.

"Gods, who's that man with Leaf and them? You didn't find another Solar out here, did you?"

Meanwhile, as she approaches the Remora, Kelam's sharp eyes sweep the deck.

"I don't see Wirric," she reports. "If he's disappeared again..."

[Malozing]

Slang shook their head, happy for the change in topics. "A Lunar. One connected to me like Qhispe is to Leaf. His name is Skymoth."

They lowered their voice as the others came closer. "I first spotted him as a damned moth flying after me and Tuoni." Slang shuddered from just thinking about it.

[Sticks]

Leaf sighed in exasperation at the idea. "He best not if'n he knows what's good fer him."

She let Kelam and Tuoni pass, then turned to Skymoth. "I ain't normally much fer formality, but I 'spect the Cap'n should have the honor'a invitin' ya aboard. Jes holler fer permission so they kin do their bit." She winked, then bounded up the gangplank.

[Eurus]

Skymoth looks around curiously at the ship and the people, but not in an especially incisive way. Mostly he's just admiring that tree. "That is lovely. I wonder why they don't make more ships like that."

At Leaf's advice, he snaps to attention in a way that's not quite mocking, but maybe a little teasing. "O Captain! Respectfully request to come aboard!"

[Malozing]

Slang snorts at the playful teasing tone in Skymoth’s voice.

”He’s charming, and he knows it, ” they warn Zalm. ”He helped us get better prices at the market.”

To the Lunar, Slang gestures for him to come aboard.

”Welcome aboard the Remora, Skymoth. This is Zalm, my first mate.

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf smiled at her two newest companions and the first mate. "Okay, if'n that's outta the way, kin I ask ya'll t' meet me in the galley? I'm gonna be a lil' delayed gettin' there, but I need errybody in our group present, Wic especially. I'll meet ya'll there."

With that she descended the stairs into the ship, and made her way to the hold.

[Ascension]

Wagering that the newcomer's unlikely to know Seatongue, Zalm ventures, "I know he's charming, if you met him as a moth and you're still letting him on the ship!"

They look him over as he steps onboard, and one eyebrow rises.

"Also, I've seen him now. If we sail anywhere with him, I think the crew might be even more distracted than they were with Ivory Knife."

"Zalm does speak Low Realm, they're just too busy gossiping about you to say hello," Kelam deadpans to Skymoth.

"Not gossip! Ship's business!" Zalm insists, and their weather-beaten, age-lined, tattoo-marked face does a marvelous job of hiding any possible sign of embarrassment. "Good to meet you, Skymoth. I was just asking Slang here if we needed to widen any hatchways for those shoulders."

Kelam tries, and fails, to stifle a surprised laugh.

[pfm1995]

Tuoni nodded approvingly at Skymoth's stopping to request permission, even if he suspected that Leaf had warned him to do so, and follows up onto the ship at his own pace. He rolls- well, his mask tilts back in amused exasperation at the Tya's gossiping flirtations, and he looks to Zalm. "Unless the sorcerer is nearby, we may have a lot of walking to do. Is he below?"

Truth be told, Tuoni wasn't entirely sure what they were going to do if Wirric couldn't carry them all overland. Walk? Miles upon miles, in this heat? The thought... well, it didn't appeal, especially with so little information about what was happening. After this long traveling together he owed Brown Leaf the trek, but that didn't mean he was looking forward to it. Maybe he could convince one of the local gods to help them, but he hardly knew any of them and the ones he did were all rivals of his old sifu. Tuoni's shoulders straightened at the thought. Speaking of... "Brown Leaf. You learned how to fight from a god here in the south, yes? Would he be able to tell us more about what is happening?"

[Inspector Valin]

Wic arrives at the mess shortly after Leaf, walking in a touch warily. It's not that he doesn't trust the monk, more that even now he's still not entirely sure of what happened while he was absent, even with the brief explanation he'd gotten. Just that Leaf wanted his help and that her home was in some form of danger. He takes a second to smooth out his new coat a final time before taking a seat. Much lighter than his first, and a pleasant shade of light green. Slang had been, as ever, far too kind. He has to thank them for it somehow.

He takes a seat, nodding to Brown Leaf but saying nothing for the moment. If she wanted to speak, he'd hear her, but this isn't his conversation to start.

[Malozing]

Slang doesn't even bother stifling their laughter. In Seatongue, "Nice save."

Still chuckling, they answer the shaman's question,"Don't worry, Tuoni. Wic's down below. No long walks for us. We best head down to the mess before Leaf gets too antsy. She might just start walking tonight if we don't have a plan."

Slang leads the way down.

[Sticks]

At the mention of the Tiger Goddess, Leaf's back stiffened. "Yeah, I 'spect she knows what's goin' on. I'll fill ya'll in more once we're all t'gether. Thanks Tuoni." Her words sounded perfunctory in her ears, but she gave the shaman a genuine grateful smile. "Ya'll head on t' the galley, I jes' need t' grab some paper."

The Galley:

With everyone assembled, Leaf laid out a wide sheet of Chairoscruo papyrus and began drawing with a stick of charcoal. As she drew, she began to explain. "Okay, so some'a ya'll know somethin' 'bout where I grew up. I'm from the Sand's Edge valley, right on the southern edge of Harborhead. It's a little slice'a heaven, you'll see." She sketched out a map that showed steep cliffs and sheer forested mountains surrounding a deep valley criss-crossed by several small rivers or large streams. Between these she added six huts, denoting villages, and finally a pagoda in the shadow of the southernmost mountain, before the edge of the map gave way to large dunes and the edge of the paper. "It's not like most'a Harborhead, the mountains keep the rivers flowin' steady an' the cliffs shelter it from sandstorms, most'a the time. The folk there're mostly Brakhani, but it ain't like that matters much t' em. They're jes' Valley folk."

She looked up at Tuoni as she added a pair of tawny eyes over the mountain range. "These-here mountains are Lou Kahn's domain. She's the tiger goddess what rules 'em, an the one what gave me my stripes. She's old an' cunning, proud as anythin' but a decent sort once y' know how t' live with her. There's also gods'a the rivers an' mountains, but they're all her clients. Used't be some kinda lion god 'round here, but I think Lou Kahn drove him out a long time back. 'Sides Alhat, Lou Kahn is the most venerated spirit here. That's prolly why..."

She drew an oblong shape, a bit like a kidney-bean among the dunes, right at the end of one of the rivers. "...other big spirits sometimes git riled up. There used t' be a seventh village here, but some big ol' desert elemental wiped it out 'bout ten years ago. It's a shadowland now...got a few dynasts buried near there too, but that were a few years later..." she drew in silence, adding a few mounds and a small dragon.

"Anyway, I'm tellin' ya'll this 'cause Kelam an I learned somethin' t'day. We went up t' see the Fane, take in the sights an' see if'n all that fire essence might be some help, but it were closed off. The brides," she looked to the newcomer, Skymoth, "were gettin' prepped fer battle. An' what's more, the Order were there too. I got recognized. This first-coil kid I knew from way back tol' me the Immaculates an' Alhat's cult are gettin' ready t' come here." She tapped into the center of the map, leaving a black mark in the middle of the valley.

"'Parently there's info that some kinda cult done popped up there, plus there's reports'a tiger attacks all over the mountains an' beyond. Before I left, I asked Lou Kahn t' protect the valley, an' taught the villagers how t' keep her happy. It ain't like she's one t' go back on her word or them t' forget, but I wouldn't put it past her t' try an' expand. T' hear her tell it, she done already beat out erry other spirit'a note in that area, might'a even butted heads with Alhat, back in the misty depths'a time. Anyway, I'm worried that this cult is my fault, that I been away too long or somethin. Now, where this all comes full circle is...the Order knows there were a Solar there. These dynasts?" She tapped the dragon-drawing. "They were sent after me, but they di'int know what they was lookin' for. They arrived an' went straight t' the Immaculate monestary an' found a monk there. Once I knew what they were lookin' fer, I lead 'em out inta the desert t' find the 'nathema, then I showed 'em."

Leaf hung her head slightly. "I ain't proud 'bout what I did, but I di'int want t' fight 'em where the villages could get hurt. Problem is, one'a them mighta gotten word out, cast a spell or somethin' t' tell the Satrap that the 'Nathema lived there. I couldn't account fer all'a them at the time. So the Order knew 'bout a 'Nathema livin' there, an' we know of one other Immaculate Solar who done come this way. I'm thinkin' that if I were a lone Solar comin' t' Harborhead lookin' fer answers, I'd seek out another Solar ASAP. Wind...might be visitin' my home. He might be behind this cult."

She finished, drawing a sun over the pagoda, and stepped back.

"So...yeah. My home's gonna git attacked by Harborhead an' the Order, an our quarry might be there...Wic, can you git me there quick-like an...would anybody else wanna come help me? I unnerstand if'n y' say 'no' but..." she stepped back from the table, knelt, placed her palms on the living-wood floor and touched it with her forehead. "Please, I don't think I kin handle this on my own."

[Malozing]

Slang pulls Brown Leaf into their side with a one-armed hug.

"You're family! Of course, I will help out." Slang gives the former monk a reassuring smile. "Asides if I didn't think of you as part of my family, I would have still owed you for the work you did to The Remora."

The Captain turns to Wic. The coat seems to fit his frame well, and Slang smiles at the sorcerer before bringing their thoughts back to the topic on hand. "How many of us could you take at a time, Wic?"

[Inspector Valin]

"Safely? Four passengers. Beyond that the wind is simply not stable enough to hold another, and I wouldn't take chances in terrain like this."

Wic hasn't looked up from Brown Leaf's map, his eyes darting between the points. He doesn't even nod to Leaf's question: he's too busy focusing on the practicalities of the matter. He glances briefly between his fellow group members. "I could conjure a thunderbird for one of us to fly. Does anyone here have experience with riding?"

[Ascension]

"You know I'm with you, love," Kelam assures Leaf, kneeling to place a comforting hand on her bowing girlfriend's shoulder.

The Abyssal glances to Skymoth.

"If you're coming, could you fly yourself? That other Lunar we met, Qhispe, she could transform into a bird..."

[Eurus]

"I can fly, but I'm not so good with long distances. I'm easy to travel with, though, if someone shelters me from the wind. I transform into a moth. One that's quite adorable, if I do say so."

He gives Wirric his best, most charming grin.

"...And anyway, I'll help if I can. My days are really quite free, lately."

[Malozing]

Slang suddenly pulls away from Leaf with a shudder. Their palms feel clammy, and they try to wipe their hands on their pants.

"No offense, but not me. Please don't- not even close to me...please." Slang shudders again. A cold sweat starts to form on the back of their neck, and the Captain rubs their neck to control the reaction. It doesn't work.

[pfm1995]

"Oh, stand up would you?" Tuoni groused. "Of course we'll help - we've been traveling together for too long to do anything else. I want to meet this master of yours, and since we're not walking there..." his shoulders relaxed slightly, and he offered Leaf a hand. "There's no question to ask. The sidereal's errands can wait."

[Sticks]

Leaf looked up, took Tuoni's hand and stood, wiping away tears on her sleeve. "Th-Thanks ya'll. I...I di'int wanna take ya fer granted, but...I did hope...thanks ya'll." She pulled Kelam and Tuoni in for a hug, but released them quickly. Even before Exalting she had always been accused of hugging too hard. Besides, it was unbecoming of a monk, a concept she might need to revisit in the future.

"Okay, so if'n we're gonna leave here, we should prolly go durin' the night. I dunno what we're gonna need t' do when we git there, but odds are we're gonna have'ta show our hand at some point. Folks'r gonna know there's 'nathema in Harborhead an' if'n we kin distance ourselves from the Remora, the safer the Tya will be. I'm scared we may be flyin' south t' intercept a whole Wyld Hunt with the Brides as backup, an' I'd like t' not spill any Harborhead blood if'n we kin avoid it."

She looked to Kelam. "Jarabi, I'm sorry t' say when we git there I'm gonna have'ta be a monk again, at least in appearance. I ain't gonna hide 'us' t' the folk there...heh, they'll prolly be delighted...but I'll need t' lose alla this." She gestured to her thickly-covered scalp. "Could I ask ya t' help me while everyone gits ready?"

[Ascension]

"Of course I will," Kelam assures Leaf.

Later, a miniature tempest soars above the vast and varied land the Realm reductively refers to as "Harborhead." Even at the prodigious speed of Wirric's Stormwind, it is a long flight to the Sand's Edge Valley, passing over broad, open savannas; rolling, forested hills; the dry channels of seasonal streams awaiting the rainy season. Off to the east, past its reed-choked banks, the moonlight glitters off the softly rippling waters of a marshy inland sea.

Those Dynasts and foreigners who wish to appear more enlightened or better-informed often refer to "Harborhead" as "the Land of the Five Peoples," or something along those lines. This is, however, another reductive simplification. While the Five Peoples are conscious of their ethnic identities, and affinity with one's People takes on an exaggerated significance where those groups meet and mingle, in great multi-ethnic cities like Kirighast or Dynastic strongholds like the mines at Bent Creek, none of the "Peoples" is anything like a monolithic organization. The Circle's flight takes them over dozens of disparate communities: camps of nomadic herdsmen outnumbered tenfold or more by their cattle, isolated villages fed by subsistence farming and supplied by domestic crafts, trading posts growing around guarded watering holes, sprawling farms worked by slave labor at the behest of wealthy masters. The worship of Ahlat binds all these scattered Southerners together more than anything else; even at the height of its power in the region, the Realm could not truly knit "Harborhead" into any unified whole. The 'borders' of the satrapy are little more than an indication of how far the satrap's garrison is able to protect his tax collectors when tribute comes due.

The Sand's Edge Valley lies at the extreme southern edge of the satrap's influence. Local Dynastic authority was once guaranteed by the presence of Peleps Thousand Grains, but with him gone and his monastery fallen, the 'border' of "Harborhead" threatens to shift northward. Certainly, as morning twilight turns the sky from black toward blue and the stormwind finally crests the cliffs overlooking the six villages, the Circle can see no overt sign that the sleepy valley, an irregular quilt of small farms split by flowing rivers and dotted with simple huts, marks the boundary of a world-spanning empire. Yet even at this moment, the warrior-clerics of two faiths are on the march to enforce that very claim.

Despite the pre-dawn hour, pinpricks of moving lamplight show that at least a few of the villagers of the nearest town are already up and about...

[Inspector Valin]

"Any idea where best to put down, Leaf?" Wic doesn't turn to look at Leaf while speaking, his gaze focused on the surrounding terrain and the knot of essence that holds them all aloft. Still, this is hardly the sorcerer's first time approaching a strange locale from the air. He smiles, "I can do the dramatic entrance if you'd rather. But if we're walking, I should bring us to ground now, to try and make sure nobody sees 'something strange in the sky'."

[Sticks]

Leaf peered around Wic's arm, having failed to look over his shoulder. The high winds raked across her scalp, agitating the tiny cuts that always came with infrequent shaving. "There!" she pointed down and towards the end of the cliffs near the desert. "The polar winds'll have died down, an' nobody'll be around. We kin' have an easy landin'. The walls'll provide shelter too."

She was pointing to the five-story pagoda that marked the center of the monastery compound.

[Inspector Valin]

"Right into the heart of things, then."

Wirric doesn't question Leaf's decision: as soon as the words leave her mouth, the sorcerer has begun guiding them towards the pagoda's heights. He looks down at the edges of the monastery as they fly above it, a curious look in his eye. He glances back to Leaf, figuring his divided attention might warrant explaining himself to the former monk. "I've never actually visited an Immaculate house of worship before. The Order never had much success in Whitewall: I presume it's hard to preach the word of the Dragons in a city ruled openly by gods and consecrated to the Sun. My apologies if I'm a little distracted."

Well, that and another reason. But he'll see to that once they've landed and appraised the situation. That's his problem to deal with.

[Ascension]

Leaf is right about the wind; as the stormwind dips within the lee of the valley's cliffs, the uncanny tempest seems to spur forward with new speed, protected from the hot, dry currents blowing from the south. She is not, however, correct in assuming that no one will be around.

A warning cry of "sorcerer!" in Flametongue goes up as Wic comes in for a landing, and wind chimes engraved with Immaculate scripture cry out not with the gentle ringing of the breeze, but with the clangor of alarm. By the time the stormwind dissipates, depositing its five Exalted riders on the worn paving-stones of the courtyard before the central pagoda, a few people have managed to rouse themselves from sleep to answer the alert.

The handful of men and women who loosely encircle the newcomers are locals. They have the seeming of monks, with shaved heads and belted robes, but they conform to no tradition Leaf is aware of. Most of them wear brown robes, not the Immaculate postulant's gray, and carry stout, combat-ready staves; two wear bright saffron robes and carry spears decorated with tassels. Past that, without a light, it's hard to make out details in the pre-dawn gloom.

Their stances are wary and guarded, ready for a fight.

"Identify yourselves!" a woman, one of the two saffron-clad figures, challenges.

[pfm1995]

Tuoni lands on the paving-stones with a touch lighter than the winds blowing across them, and looks at the monks with curiosity and a complete lack of alarm. He, too, had never actually been inside an Immaculate temple - it had just never seemed prudent - and this wasn't entirely out of line with what he had expected. Still, he'd thought there'd be... more of them? With six villages to draw from, each with their own set of bastards, orphans, and by-blows, he'd expected a thriving temple filled with worshipers. Had the Tiger God thinned their numbers so? If so, it might explain why the Realm and the Daughters were both so eager to set out. If she'd finally over-reached, and given Ahlat the excuse to revenge old wrongs...

He shakes his head free of what-ifs and looks to Leaf for direction - he was a stranger here, and didn't want to make too poor a first impression.

[Malozing]

Slang hops down onto the dirt ground to get away from Kelam who allowed Skymoth to hitch a ride on her shoulder. They didn't quite realize the group surrounding them and their Circle until a spearhead was close to their face.

"Erm..." Slang brings their hands up slowly to show they meant no harm. "Leaf?"

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf touched down in the center of the group, and was briefly obscured from outside view by her taller companions...which would be all of them. She sighed, then ducked under the captain's arm to face the spearpoint head-on. She glared down the haft, daring the shadowed figure on the other end to try it, just try it.

"Okay, ya'll best tell me what'n Heiesh's good name ya'll'r doin' 'round about this here temple. What, the locked gate di'int tell ya the dragons'd gone fishin'? I swear t' Mela's cloudy forhead if'n ya'll done messed up the library's filin' system, I'll have yer hides fer a prayer wheel an' that ain't no joke!"

Leaf has a full head of steam and is going for an intimidation roll here. Dropping a 2-die excellency too.

So that is CHA+Presence+Excellency+Stunt+TDS

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
TDS re-rolls: [roll3]

[Ascension]

Kelam's hand reflexively goes to her sword as the monks(?) surround the Circle. She doubts their numbers are enough to pose a significant threat, even if both of the saffron robes were to mark Exalts, but she doesn't plan to be caught off-guard if a fight breaks out.

"Best stay in moth form until we know what's going on," she whispers to Skymoth. No need to broadcast 'Anathema!' by transforming in front of the locals unnecessarily. She doesn't expect a response from the man-moth, considering that moths don't tend to make a great deal of noise, but she does glance at the shoulder where he perched during the flight... and her pale face goes a shade paler as she sees he's not there.

Meanwhile, the monks' numbers have grown slightly, as those slower to rise begin trickling into the courtyard. The tension of the standoff increments upward...

...until Brown Leaf speaks.

"Brown Leaf, is that you?" one of the monks asks.

"It is, isn't it?" another echoes.

"It is," a third confirms, authoritatively. "She's come back to us!"

The monks' aggressive posture evaporates instantly, though, with their caution gone, they crowd closer to get a better look at the valley's returned hero and her strange companions.

"You gave me a fright there!" the spear-wielder who Leaf directly threatened exclaims, but she plays it off with a nervous laugh and a smile. "Gave us all a fright with that entrance. We was afraid you were a Wyld Hunt!"

"So this is Brown Leaf?" a cultured, masculine voice cuts across the local monks' happy chatter, speaking Low Realm rather than Flametongue.

A shaved-headed Islander clad in pure white robes steps out of the pagoda itself. The hilt of a cruciform sword is visible over his left shoulder, the blade carried in a baldric sheath.

"I've heard so much about you from the people here in the valley. And I suspect the two of us have much to talk about, given what we share in common."

A shaft of daylight pierces the gloom as a disk of golden light appears on the Islander's forehead. The sudden light glints off the sword hilt at the man's shoulder, revealing the unmistakable brilliant gold of Orichalcum.

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf remained in the same spot, but gave the Islander a proper Immaculate bow. "An you'll be Wind, then. Jasara said you'd have Kidale's sword, an' I figured once I done heard'a trouble back home, it likely had somethin' t' do with another Solar. Listen, brother, I don't mean t'be rude, but I ain't been home in two years an' I got folk here I'm'a obliged t' catch up with."

She turned to the assembled crowd, took a deep breath, and spoke in a clear voice, the kind that had rung out over ceremonies and festivals on these grounds many times before. "A'ight ya'll! I aim t' see each'n erry one'a ya'll right quick now, but y' gotta know somethin' firs'! I been a lotta places, done a lotta things, an' met amazin' folk out there, an' I brought some'a the best with me! These here'r Kelam, Wirric, Tuoni Cap'n Slang an' Skymoth! They're good folk, an they's here t' help, so ya'll treat 'em right now, y'hear?!"

She looked back to Wind. "If'n you di'in catch that; Kelam, Wirric, Tuoni, Slang an' Skymo...where is he? Don't tell me he done found a cabbage leaf t' hide under 'afore the sun peeks out?"

[Ascension]

Kelam is wide-eyed, and a touch of panic sharpens her voice.

"I don't know," she says, frantically checking the recesses of her armor into which an insect could have crawled, perhaps fleeing the breeze from Wirric's stormwind, "I don't know where Skymoth is."

Wind is more concerned with something else Brown Leaf said. His composed, authoritative facade cracks, and he quickly descends the steps leading from the pagoda.

"You've spoken with Jasara?" he asks, "How is she?"

Meanwhile, if anyone is able to spare any attention to their surroundings rather than focusing on Skymoth's disappearance or on Wind himself, the light of the Zenith's caste mark reveals some details the gloom concealed. Including the late-risers who've just recently joined the crowd, Wind's monks seem to total a little over a dozen. They trend young, the eldest among them a man who looks to be in his late thirties. Some of them move a little stiffly; here and there rag bandages peek out from under a robe's hem or cuff, and one girl's cheek is swollen with obvious bruising. Beyond the light shining from Wind's brow, at the very edge of the courtyard, the shapes of a few other people can be seen, people apparently unwilling to come closer to the monastery's foreign visitors.

[Inspector Valin]

"Perhaps the wind essence..."

Wic's musings on Skymoth's disappearance are interrupted by his observation of the gathered monks. Thank Sol this hadn't turned bloody. Or rather, thank Leaf. Still, Wirric's eyes linger on the figures that still lurk at the periphery of the group. Strange, to see the monks split so. What separates the stragglers from Leaf's old friends?

An academic problem to return to later. For now he has work to do. Besides, he's not exactly much help in the struggle for hearts and minds. If nobody stops him, Wic picks a direction that looks unpopulated and starts to walk off in search of a nice isolated room that will serve for Elemental summoning.

[Sticks]

Leaf looked around. She was loosing the thread a bit, she knew it. It wasn't exactly the quiet homecoming she'd expected. Still, everyone was looking to her for...some reason. Best to keep everyone informed at least.

"Hey, Wic! the hill with the big ol' baobab tree behind the main hall is nice an' quiet, an you'll git light there sooner fer yer summonin'! That way!" She gesticulated as she called to the sorcerer. She knew he had his own problems at the moment, and he had come through when she needed him. If she weren't so mired down in...everything she would have offered to help.

Next, Kelam. "Don' worry 'bout it none, darlin'. If'n he don't wanna be seen that's his business. I reckon we kin trust him t' take care'a hisself."

Finally, back to Wind. "Okay, sorry, lot goin' on. Yea, I met Jasara, though Wic o'er there an' Slang here got t' know her better. She's busy fixin' up her manse, it got damaged when some'a our group was fightin' a bunch'a ghosts'n such. She asked us t' find you an' the others. I'll tell ya more later, but firs' I got questions'a my own. Why're you settin' up shop in my home? Why're you takin' on these folk an' dressin' 'em up like monks?" She stepped up to the taller monk and whispered the her last question so only he could hear. "An' what th' hell you been doin' what's got Khirigast's attention?"

[Malozing]

Though not comfortable with his moth form, Slang does look around to see where the Lunar could have hidden.

"I think Brown Leaf is right that he can take care of himself..."

'Hopefully, nothing bad happened to the Skymoth.'

The Tya notices the injuries of various monks and tentatively moves over to the girl with the swollen cheek as she was the closest. "Um... Do you understand Low Realm? If you would like I can see what I can do for that cheek. I can help anyone with any injuries, really."

With Leaf busy with Wind, it would have been nice to have Skymoth help translate in case most of the monks don't speak Low Realm, and Slang seriously doubts any of the monks speak Seatongue. They glance around at gathered monks; eyes seeking any injuries and noting who may need more treatment than the others.

Rolling a Medicine + Intelligence to get an idea of how severe and how old the injuries are among the monks.
[roll0]

[pfm1995]

Tuoni stays quiet for the moment, and for all that he seems to notice the mortal monks may as well be shadows in the night. All of his attention, all of his focus, is on the newfound solar in their midst. He remembers what Kidale said, his ghost so filled with rage:

"Wind, who destroyed my body and tried to deny me my revenge?"

This one was a hard one, then, below it all. He had had a chance to have is friend and circle-mate back, albeit as a ghost or something even lesser, and had rejected that. Personally, with his own hand - Tuoni had known shamans who couldn't make the same choice, to their regret. Wind's faith must run deep indeed.

[Ascension]

Wic:

Wind's small band of monks have worked to clean and repair the Sand's Edge monastery as they've put it back into use, but it was built with a larger population of monks in mind, and signs of neglect from its period of disuse still linger. Gates creak, vacant rooms lie under a patina of dust, scrubby weeds cluster at the base of the ancient baobab.

The underpopulated monastery offers no shortage of lonely places for Wirric's task, though the baobab Leaf pointed out would be particularly well-suited to the summoning of a wood elemental; a deep shadow yawning like a door in its trunk suggests that a spacious hollow may be found within the massive tree.

Slang:

The girl with the swollen cheek looks back at Slang blankly, but one of the other monks explains the Tya's intentions, and she relaxes. With bandages and loose robes preventing close examination, and the light still poor, Slang can't be entirely certain, but none of the injuries on display look severe. They do, however, show signs of having been sustained over a period of time, rather than in any single violent incident.

"Trainin' kin be 'ard," a woman who looks to be in her late twenties explains in heavily accented Low Realm, "But th' failins o' th' flesh only prove th' spirit stronger. We know these earthly bodies ain't nothin' special."

Wind:

"They've already heard of us in Kirighast?"

Wind is obviously caught off guard by that, but he has enough sense about him to mirror Leaf's shift into Old Realm.

"That wasn't supposed to happen yet. Of course I want everyone to hear the message, but..."

He looks at his little band of faithful, infinitesimally small in the face of the Cult of Ahlat, much less the Immaculate Order itself.

"...we're not ready."

Brow furrowed in concern, he gestures up the steps to the pagoda.

"Would you and your friends like to come inside to speak more frankly? Even if you all know the language of the spirits, my followers will be able to recognize the name of that city, and I don't wish to cause them alarm prematurely."

Kelam:

Kelam frowns to herself over Skymoth's sudden disappearance.

"I hope he didn't get caught by some other ethereal ship's extradimensional fish hook... that doesn't happen to Lunars regularly does it?"

[Inspector Valin]

This would have served me well back in Champoor. I know of two wonderful Greenmaws who would feel right at home here.

Wirric chuckles to himself as he approaches the badobab. It would be a fine place to pass the time, perhaps read were he able to find a book somewhere in the monastery, but for summoning air elementals it was quite unsuitable. Ideally he should start from a place strong in the the essence of air, such as the upper floor of the pagoda. Still, before heading off, Wirric takes a second to poke his head into the shadows of the tree. If it's been abandoned for so long, there might be something interesting inside. He lets the light of his caste mark shine for just a second, long enough to survey the interior.

If there's nothing, Wic'll just try and go set up shop on the roof of the Pagoda instead, using Stormwind to get up there.

[Sticks]

"No."

Leaf's gaze was downcast, her fists clenched.

"I ain't gonna hide what's goin' on from my folk, seein' as it concerns 'em direct. An' I'll thank you, sir, t' not invite me inta my own home."

She folded her arms and glared up at Wind, a cold anger in her eyes that matched the pre-dawn winds.

"We's gonna have our li'l chat out here, so's folk kin hear while you tell me what you think yer doin'. If'n you don't speak our language, I'll translate for 'em. An' don't think I di'int hear her!" She pointed back without looking, her finger indicating the woman who spoke to Slang. "I wanna know exactly what you been tellin' these, these...innocents." She almost choked on the word. "An' where the hell Nasir is."

As the first rays of the sun began to peek over the monastery walls, they were matched in brilliance by Leaf's full-disk caste-mark glowing bright on her brow.

Okay, Leaf is not happy, and she wants Wind to know it and fess up. She's making an intimidate check so he knows how badly he's !@#$ed up in her view. Spending a full excellency with TDS.
So that is CHA+Presence+TDS(1)+Stunt+Excellency(6).

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
TDS re-rolls:
[roll5]

[Malozing]

Slang bristles at the sentiment the woman expressed. "I'm not sure that Leaf would agree with that..." Another monk limping up catches the Tya's attention. You really shouldn't be putting weight on that leg! Please tell me you at least haven't been training while you're injured."

Slang moves over to take some of the monk's weight and glares at Wind.

"You best answer her."

[Ascension]

Wind:

Wind recoils under the weight of Leaf and Slang's scorn almost as if their words struck physical blows. His face shows confusion and hurt.

"I know Jasara was hurting when I left Chiaroscuro, but I can't imagine what she told you to make you think I'm some kind of monster."

Though concern lines his brow, and tension remains in his voice, he straightens his back and reasserts a measure of composure and authority.

"Yes, I speak the language," he says, shifting into Flametongue (fluent, but a Chiaroscuro dialect, its accent and some word choices strange to Leaf and the valley folk's ears) and raising his voice for all his followers to hear, "and no, I am not trying to hide anything from my comrades. I've taught them more truth than this monastery's library ever would or could. I am not another deceiver like the Immaculate Order, feeding lies to keep the people in line. I simply wanted to make sure that we have a plan before I told everyone that we have drawn the Realm's attention."

That sends up a chorus of gasps from the monks, followed by a susurrus of whispered prayers to the Unconquered Sun and other celestial divinities.

"And no, they don't spar while injured," he adds in Low Realm, with a look toward Slang. His facial expression appends an unspoken 'What kind of fool do you take me for?' to the statement.

He looks back to Leaf.

"As for Nasir, if you've come looking for him, you're in the wrong place. He went with Demetheus. I believe they were bound for the Varang states first, only for a brief visit, and I don't know where after that. Perhaps Paragon?"

He shakes his head.

"Nasir's present actions are none of my concern. My calling is here. I only want what's best for the people of this valley, as you do, Brown Leaf. But that has to begin with showing them the truth of the Dragon-Blooded Realm, and the promise of the Sun's renewed favor."

His expression, and his defensiveness, softens.

"I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot, and I'm sorry I forgot that this was your home for far longer than it has been mine. But can't you see that we're not enemies?"

Wind is trying to erode Leaf's animosity toward him (or instill a positive Intimacy in her if she's not already developed a negative one), hoping to play on an assumed intimacy in favor of the local people by asserting that he has their best interests in mind.

Charisma + Presence + Harmonious Presence Meditation + Listener Swaying Argument
[roll0]+1 success

+ 1 bonus die for every +2 Resolve Leaf receives from any source, up to three (variable, so I'm rolling all of them just in case):
[roll1]
Wic:

The glow of the Twilight sigil on Wic's brow reveals that the living wood of the baobab's interior has been carved with Immaculate sutras in High Realm, almost all of them evoking the teachings of Sextes Jylis. Might this have been the inspiration for Leaf's work on the Remora's tree-mast?

[Inspector Valin]

Wic takes a second to read a few of the prayers before withdrawing from the tree. He can't help but smile a little as he does so, running a finger across the script. It's strangely heartwarming to think of Leaf and her fellow monks living here. The world needs people like her. People like... hmm?

Even with his distraction, Wic can tell the scene around the courtyard has changed in tone. He watches, briefly, before turning to make his way up to the top of the pagoda. Probably best if he doesn't get involved for now. He's not exactly well placed to calm fraying nerves.

[Sticks]

Leaf's eyes softened, a little. She could see that Wind meant well, but she also knew that good intentions did not erase ill deeds, and he could not see the scope of the damage he was causing.

"No, we ain't enemies, but then, I ain't sure you know what yer doin'. Jasara had nothin' but good things t'say 'bout you...'bout alla you, honestly. You an' Demethus an' Kidale were like her brothers, an' she loves alla ya'll, Faka-Kun too. She wants you back, fer her family t' come t'gether again."

She turned and looked out on the gathered 'monks'. She knew them, of course she knew them. Farmers, carpenters, patrolmen, boys and girls who had grown so much since she had last seen them, but still bloomed with irrepressible youth under their bruises all stared back at her, dressed up as monks. That they had learned to fight was evident, but what else they had learned worried her.

"This is my family. I dunno what y' expected, comin' here, but I don't see how y'kin expect me t' be happy findin' you tryin' t' make my family inta somethin' diff'rent. You may've lost a part'a yours with Kidale..." She looked back at Wind with pity. "But Jasara's waitin' an' Demethus an' Faka-Kun are out there...so's Nasir, an' he may be more'a all our concern than you may think. You ain't lost alla yer family, an' that's somethin'. No need t' start over wit' somebody else's."

Think I'll leave it there. Leaf hasn't answered all of his arguments, but she feels like she got to the heart of the matter. Not going to make this a social action or resist Wind's roll. He wanted Leaf calm, she's calm now, but that doesn't mean she's buying what he's selling. He'll need more rolls if he's going to get that. >=D

[Malozing]

Snorting at Wind’s expression, Slang helps the monk sit down and examines his swollen knee.

‘Fool enough to overlook a more severe injury from someone trying to practice in secret while minorly injured.’

Tenderly feeling about the joint, the Tya groans softly. “This won’t heal fully on its own. Your knee isn’t lined up, but I can pop everything back in place, but you really need to stay off of it for a day or two. After that, you’ll have to wear a splint and use a crutch until your knee is fully healed.”

If their patient shows any sign of understanding what they said or someone else translates, Slang continues to talk while prepping a few herbs from a couple of small pouches.

“So, I doubt this happened while sparring with everyone else. Others would have heard your knee popping out of place.”

The Captain offers a pinch of herbs to the man. “This will just take the edge off the pain while I pop everything back in place. Just chew it.”

As the monk chews on the dried herbs, Slang pulls out a couple of rolls of gauze and a small jar of an ointment. They hand the jar to the woman with the bruise on her face.

“This should help with everyone’s bruises.”

Slang places the two rolls of gauze aside and gestures the man to lay on his back. The Tya adjusted the monk’s other leg so that it was bent at the knee and the foot was planted on the ground. Slang moved to kneel next to the injured leg; one hand bracing the injured leg on the thigh above the knee and the other holding the lower leg just above the ankle. Slowly, Slang moves the lower toward themselves until a cracking pop sounded from the limb. They quickly move to wrap and compress the knee to prevent more swelling.

Using Wound-Mending Care Technique to help speed up the healing. 9s are doubled. 3m for excellencies to round out the dice pool to 10.
[roll0]I forgot 2 stunt dice. Rolled in OCC thread; a 9 and a 7

[Ascension]

Wind:

Concern twists Wind's features as Slang treats the monk with the dislocated knee.

"I didn't know you were so badly hurt, Fara... You shouldn't ever try to hide something like that! If this person hadn't come along..."

The Zenith breathes out a sigh and shakes his head.

"I'm sorry... We've been doing the best we can, but medicine isn't one of my gifts, and the village healers can only do so much..."

He takes a step back and centers himself with a deep breath, his hands briefly flickering into a mudra invoking Mela as he does so. Not all of his old Immaculate habits have been suppressed. When he's finished, he looks to Brown Leaf.

"We need to have a proper conversation about... so many things. But may I beg your patience just a little while longer?"

He gestures to the East, where the sky brightens inexorably toward sunrise, a band of orange-pink twilight gathering on the horizon.

"It's time for morning prayers. I would like you to see us welcome the Sun. You're under no obligation to join in...."

He nods to the edge of the courtyard, where the strengthening light reveals that the onlookers who hesitated to draw nearer when Leaf and her friends first arrived are ordinary village folk, still long-haired and brightly clothed.

"No one here was forced to join. They all came, watched, listened, and ultimately chose to dedicate themselves to hope, to the dawning Cycle of Day. Please... give me a fair hearing yourself. That's all I ask. If you're still upset when you've heard me out, that's fine. You're entitled to feel the way you feel. But please don't jump to conclusions too hastily..."

He ventures a shy smile.

"That's a lesson all of us 'Anathema' have learned, isn't it?"

Persuade attempt to convince Leaf to hear Wind's message out. Charisma + Presence + Harmonious Presence Methodology + Impassioned Discourse Technique.

[roll0]+1 success
Wic:

I know Wic technically didn't exist for most of the last day, but he's flown all night, and now he's starting on a four-hour ritual. Could you roll Stamina + Resistance for me to see whether or not he takes fatigue penalties on the binding roll at the end of the summoning?

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf frowned, but was too curious to pass up the opportunity. She nodded, and allowed Wind to pass her to wherever he was going. For her part, she walked to Kelam and took her hand, squeezing it for reassurance.

"I...I know. I'm okay, jes'...rattled. This ain't at all what I expected, an' it's only the firs' thing we seen since gettin' here. Jes...stay with me, okay? I'll feel better with ya there."

[pfm1995]

Tuoni leans over to Kelam, and mumbles "What does he mean, they don't train while wounded? How can they be expected to know how to fight while wounded, if they don't practice? And how can they train at all, if they stop any time someone get the smallest bruise? It seems very... useless."

He appreciated the Captain's efforts to help, and how much deeper her medicinal knowledge seemed to run than his, but her and Brown Leaf's attitudes towards Wind seemed counter-productive at best. As much as the idea may hurt, Leaf had made the choice to abandon these people here - a pain Tuoni was intimately familiar with; he'd made the choice to abandon even more himself - and now this stranger was here, standing, training, and preparing to fight for the very people she'd walked away from.

It could not be easy to reckon with that.

At Wind's offer, Tuoni's ears perked up. He hadn't attended dawn prayers for over two years now, and what small observances he made on his own simply weren't the same. How different would these southern prayers be, would there be bonfires, and songs, and the burning of the fey and beast-folk? Come to think of it... he glanced around, looking for Skymoth, and breathed a soft sigh of relief when he didn't see the Lunar. This could have gotten awkward, otherwise.

He dipped his mask in acknowledgement of the former-immaculate, and followed the not-monks to the edges of the courtyard.

[Inspector Valin]

As much as his heart had been driving him towards the summoning, there's a reason Wirric lingered in his observation of the tree and monastery. The ritual is never as easy as Wic likes to think of it. The art of elemental summoning demands focus, even with Wirric's long experience and love for the art, it's not something done lightly. And should not be done after a long night spent skimming across unfamiliar terrain, and scarcely able to stand.

But... but the alternative is to put it off. To delay. And if his vision was right, delay is unacceptable

And so Wic works regardless. Instead of standing, he sits upon the ground, the fangs of Lusus Nature resting against his hand to keep him conscious as he focuses upon the tides of air essence that run across the top of hte pagoda; cloud and wind and storm bound within the essence of his home Direction.

Soon. Soon I can rest. But not until I'm done.

This is kinda bullcarp given that Wic disappeared pretty much first thing in the morning. As such he'd had a good night's sleep. All night = the same day that everyone else had before that. He should be tired, sure, but at risk of falling over? After a regular day?

Okay, okay, I'm done grousing. :smalltongue: I guess I mostly just don't want to have to split from the group much more OOC, I wanna be involved in things! But if Wic's tired enough to take penalties he needs to rest, right?

[roll0] Stamina
[roll1] Stunt Dice

[Malozing]

At the insistence of the monk, Slang helps the man move over to the gathering for the morning prayers. Once he was settled, the Tya steps back from the group to Kelam and Leaf's side.

"Honestly, I don't think Wind's over-training anybody. Seems like that kid just wanted to prove himself by training through some pain and made it worse. Reminds me of Blue."

Slang sighs and allows their tiredness seep in now there is a calmer atmosphere.

[Ascension]

Wind:

"I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere," Kelam whispers to Leaf. She has her own concerns as she watches Wind and the monks ready to greet the Sun, however. While his background was, as far as she can tell, not so different from Leaf's, his reckoning with his Immaculate past has taken him in a different direction, and she worries where his fervor might lead if her nature were to become apparent to him. What place might Abyssals have in his new religion?

As the newcomers watch and wonder, Wind moves to the eastern edge of the courtyard, stepping up onto a short, boxy podium of recent construction. His monks form up into even columns, facing East.

"Maaake ready!" he calls out. The words are Old Realm, but a stiff and formalized Old Realm, a ritual invocation, not the conversational fluency used to bridge the language barrier between Wic and the rest of his circle. At the command, the monks... save the man whose knee Slang just reset, who glances back at the Tya as if to say 'see, I was listening to you'... assume a martial arts stance. It's not a particularly familiar style, though Leaf or Tuoni might recognize it from somewhere.

The monks hold their pose as Wind begins to speak.

He shifts between Flametongue and Low Realm, using the latter apparently for the benefit of his foreign guests, making a point in one language and reiterating it in the other. He says, roughly:

"Let us recall, brothers and sisters, why we are so thankful to the Sun not just for the coming of this day, but for the coming of the Cycle of Day, for the return of His Chosen who now walk among you. His blessing, his light, is sorely needed, for long have we labored through darkness, slave to the evils of the earth and the corruption of the flesh.

"For the Essence of Creation... the Essence of the Elements, and of the Dragons... is the Essence of the Primordial Creators, of a kind with the Essence of the Demons of Hell. The Exaltation of the blood, of which the Realm is so proud, is nothing more than a hereditary curse, leading the unfortunate recipients of its 'blessing' into venality, licentiousness, and hypocrisy.

"The gods of the earth, too, have been tainted through long association; this is why the Immaculate Order struggles to contain their ambitions, their lust for worship exceeding their station. And human beings, you and I, are robed in flesh of this earth, shackled to the body's sinful urges.

"But we know there is a higher path! For we have been Illuminated! The gods of the heavens... the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars... their distance from our world has kept them pure. And from their realm of glory, they, in their mercy, shine their light back down on us, giving us hope and guidance. More, we know they send down a greater portion of their light to a chosen few, imbuing them with Celestial Essence, the true Exaltation!"

The upper edge of the Sun disc clears the lip of the valley, and the monks let out a thunderous shout of acclamation, shifting their stance as they do. Wind reignites his caste mark, a second sunrise, and he breaks from his homily to offer up a prayer of thanksgiving in formulaic Old Realm.

When he returns to his prior thread, he continues:

"Take heed, children, I do not glorify the Solar Exalted to glorify myself. The power I have been given is meant to serve you, to give the faithful clear-minded guidance and just leadership. And as this light spreads, its power is meant to free us all from the tyrannical yoke of Dynastic rule. For Celestial Exaltation resides not in the body or the blood. It is a gift from above, a gift that can be earned by any person, that could be earned by any one of you. Take note of our guests, how they come from all around the world, from all walks of life... the power of the Sun, and of the Moon and the Stars, does not belong to any one people, nor will it ever. It belongs to us all!

"Once, the Sun withdrew that favor, and Creation suffered for it. We have all suffered, for centuries, beneath the heel of the demon-tainted 'Princes of the Earth.' But as we lay in darkness, we were not forgotten. As day ever follows night, so has the time of the Cycle of Day come upon us, and you are among the first blessed to see its light. You and I and countless others will soon rise, guided by the light of the rising Sun, and we will set! Creation! right!

"Praise the Unconquered Sun, the brightest light of Heaven! Praise the Moon and Stars who reflect His light! Follow the Shining Ones blessed by their Essence, and strive for a day in which there is no darkness!"

"Praise the Sun!" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SS2jLLnVMy8) the monks echo, and throw their hands up toward the heavens. "He who vanquishes the darkness!"

Wic:
Point fairly taken, and you rolled well considering your pool. Would you object to just a -1 penalty on the binding roll?

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf gave Kelam's hand a quick squeeze, then stepped down among the assembled 'monks'. She walked (https://youtu.be/-J_IIU0p9cA?t=38) among them, familiar faces all lined with new worries. Their eyes squinted towards the fair-skinned man raised above them on his dais, full of certainty and purpose. Her sandaled feet crested the tops of the grass, wet with dew and cold in the shade. She looked around, noting the formal ritual stances, so like Wind's rigid diction in Old Realm. She stood in the middle of the neat columns, a head shorter than most and looking so very, very tired. A night of nervous anticipation in-flight had done her no favors, her simple robes hung off her shoulders and chest, her belt needed cinching and her face was wan in the early-morning light, but her eyes burned fiercely as the sun reached them, scattering gold flecks on her dark-brown irises.

"That's how it is, is it? I can't believe what I'm hearin'. I don't believe ya'll'r buyin' this. Since when did the folk'a this valley, our valley, need t' be told how t' see the world? Since when did we need t' be called 'children'? By what authority does this man here stan' above us? None more'n I have, that's fer sure." Her caste mark flared, waves of bright essence poured off of her as she stepped into a kata, not the one the would-be monks used, but the solid, confident motions of Paisap's Earth Dragon. Her core was strong, her shoulders flexed, each movement was firm, assured almost forceful, but no clouds of sand rose from her feet. She finished with those feet firmly planted, she drew her arms up, not as the supplicants had, but straight above in imitation of Mount Meru, then she brought them down in a slow, measured motion that matched her breath, exhaling in a flow of essence.

"He ain't no greater chosen'a the Sun than me, no greater Immaculate Monk than me. The dif'rence is, I been where he ain't. I can't speak fer' him, though he seems glad t' speak fer the Sun an' all its chosen. I don't believe in speakin' fer other folk, I can't say why Sifu Thousand Grains came t' this valley t' build this temple, only that he did, with the people who live here. He came t' ask if they'd have him, an' when the people said yes, he done pitched in alongside 'em, here an' in the fields. I can't speak fer him, but I don't believe it were arrogance what caused a 'venile, hypocritical an' licentious' Exalt cursed with demon-essence t' roll up 'is sleeves an' muck in with valley folk. I don't believe it 'cause I seen the bad, the wicked the arrogant..." she paused and cast her gaze over Wind "an' I ain't found thems t'be traits unique t' the Dragon-Blooded. Since I left here, I met lotsa folk from all dif'rent walks, includin' a fair few'a thems we were brought up t'call 'Anathema'. Folk like me an' Wind an' my friends here, an lemmie tell you they run the gamut too. There's good-hearted leaders like Cap'n Slang, o'er there, an' there's less-good folk too. I met a king of a land, farther'n I care t' travel but pretty-dang close in th' great scope'a the world. Man was radiant in the Sun's essence, beautiful an' magestic, the true picture'a kingship...an' he used his people as foot-stools, saw 'em as disposable, not worth 'is time."

She cast her eyes downward, rolled her head once one way, then the other. "He's dead now, folk couldn't stomache 'is hypocrisy. His darkness was too personal, his pride more valuable'n his conscience. He was deservin'a the Sun's blessin'...Like me'n Wind. He di'int have what I got, what Slang'n Tuoni'n Kelam...an Wic, come ta think of it, have all got. We got somethin' 'sides ourselves we wanna protect, not jes' protect, but care for. My greatest fear after leavin' home was that I'd come back an' ya'll wouldn't be able t' recognize me, that I wouldn't deserve th' love ya'll gave so freely t' that lil' girl that Thousand Grains brought in on 'is back...an instead I find somebody adrift livin' in the temple we built. I ain't mad, it's what the temple's for, Thousand Grains certainly never turned away a lost soul...but most folk who turned up here knew they was lost."

Finally, she looked directly at the other monk. "No matter how brightly you make yersself shine, you ain't gonna banish yer own darkness, an' there ain't no darkness so deep you can't find the light in it. Enough'a all this duality, folk here ain't got time fer it. They're practical people, honest an' hard-workin'. They got nothin' t' prove, not t' me and certainly not t'you. I ain't gonna let yer existential crisis endanger my family no-longer, Wind."

Leaf's already intimidated the man, and that didn't accomplish much. This time no social rolls, just Leaf getting serious...and by getting serious, I mean two levels of Increasing Strength Exercise during that Immaculate Kata. She's ready to go, either to fight or to get to work, we'll see which it is.

[Malozing]

When Leaf steps forward to say her piece, Slang moves closer to and slightly in front of Kelam. Wind’s philosophy leaves little room for those like the swordswoman. However, Leaf’s counterargument brings a wide smile to the Tya’s face.

’That monk’s always rushing to fix everything at once.’

”Not that this debate shouldn't happen, but Leaf maybe we should get some sleep. At least, so tempers don't flare unnecessary.”

[Ascension]

Wind frowns at Brown Leaf's disapproval.

"I'm not saying that the Solar Exalted are perfect. We are human... we are still of Creation, even blessed as we are. But we are Chosen. Empowered by the will of the Lord of Heaven, not a whim of the blood. We have a higher purpose."

He shakes his head.

"Please, Brown Leaf... I understand sentimentality for the Order. It is our mother, our father... I know it's hard to look past that. But you can't equate our Exaltation with that of the Dragon-Blooded. Don't glorify them. Don't debase yourself."

Wind steps down from his pedestal and crosses the distance to stand only about six feet in front of Leaf. He is taller than the Harborhead native, even on level ground, but, with the rising Sun himself at his back, his caste mark seems smaller, dimmer in comparison. There is a deeply felt sadness in his eyes as he faces his fellow Zenith, a sadness... and pity.

"You asked your people when they had to be told how to see the world..."

Palms open, he gestures outward, encompassing the monastic complex.

"What happened here?" he asks, gently, quietly. "What is the Perfected Hierarchy?"

Murmurs run through the crowd of Illuminated monks, and their precise formation fractures. Caught in the crossfire between two of their idols, two of the Shining Ones, they waver.

Wind takes a step closer to Leaf, speaks a touch softer. While his speech is still in Flametongue, his words are meant for his counterpart, not the crowd.

"Kindness can be control. The Order knows this."

Kelam winces. Her hearing is acute, and she's learned a little Flametongue from Leaf. She caught that. And as much as she's there for Brown Leaf, as fully supportive as she longs to be... her memories of Skullstone are too acute for her to deny that there could be truth in Wind's implication.

"Hold on a moment," she murmurs to Slang. "We do need sleep, but... some conversations won't wait."

[pfm1995]

Standing in the back, with the broken-knee'd monk helpfully translating for the strange foreigner, Tuoni's grip shifts on his staff as he watches and listens. These people and their movements, their katas that are flawed only in that the ones practicing them are mortal - they feel like a parody, a mummer's act writ large of an Immaculate order rooted in the sky instead of the earth. To it's undoing he was sure, as every word Wind had said so far he knew, empirically, to be false. The Dragonblooded, for all their cruelties, had been on the whole kind to creation. Was not the royalty of Linowa, a nation blessed by the Unconquered Sun, of the blood? When their enemies had encircled them and come for their blood, had not the Dragonblooded fought and died in their defense? That they failed was irrelevant - they had been there, when the Bull had sought to kill them all. And this palaver that the Chosen of the Celestial bodies were in any way superior; Tuoni had seen Lunars, seen Sidereals, seen them fight and kill each other with the same abandon as two drunks in an alley. Seen Solars who betrayed their subjects to the fey.

But it was his last point that rankled the shaman the most. As Kelam stepped forwards, Tuoni did as well and his limping gate carried him through the crowd of mortals like an ill wind. His voice was cold as winter lead, and his words were like hammers as he spoke for the dead.

"Kidale would disagree."

Chosen... Chosen for what? For death? Sol Invictus chose me for exaltation in the middle of a Realm satrapy. Surrounded by a Delzahn nobleman's guards. How was that meant to lead anywhere but to a Wyld Hunt being called? How was that anything other than a fatal curse?

"If what you say is true, Sol Invictus murdered your friend as surely as Demetheus. His greater purpose? Death, and an existence as an unhappy ghost. No, the only greater purpose here is what you would choose to grant to his death, and in so doing dishonor him and neglect the lessons of your own failure." Tuoni waves an arm over the assembled crowd. "Look around you. You are making the exact same mistakes, moving too soon, trusting in your own power over that of an Empire - save that now you are in command, and not Nasir."

And the result would be the same, Tuoni was certain of it. The Realm would come, in all its glory, and the people of this valley would rise up against them. And they would die - if not now, then a year from now when the trade caravans stopped coming in and the Dragonblooded tightened the noose. When all gods still loyal to the Immaculate Order abandoned them, fouled their harvest. And Wind would not be able to burn them all. Even if Brown Leaf, himself, and all the rest of them stayed to help... the Realm would, eventually, win. Tuoni had been there, he had seen what it looked like when the Realm marched to war.

"What greater purpose do you see in your own deaths?"

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf released (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dwUriqEuiNg) a slow breath, essence still cascading off of her scalp and shoulders like fine golden mist. She met the other Zenith's eyes, saw the offered olive branch, and made her decision.

"I ain't gonna throw you out, Wind, but I can't permit this t' continue. Ferget exaltation an' the perfected heirarchy, this is 'bout bein' responsible fer the folk aroun' you. You came t' my homeland lookin' fer...I dunno what, redemption? Purpose? Well this, them..." she gestured about at the assembled 'monks' "...they ain't it. They's honest folk, hard workin' an' good-natured, as I'm sure you learned. They work the land, they herd, honor their ancestors an' the spirits. It ain't no Perfected Hierarchy, but it's worked for 'em for generations, an' Sun help me it kin go on fer a hundred generations further if'n I have any say in it. They got families, work, goals an' dreams an' purpose enough."

She walked past him and stood before the podium. It was well-positioned, a good commanding view of the training ground, facing just the right direction for sunrise. She laid a hand on it, and with a casual flick of the wrist, sent it tumbling end-over-end. "Tuoni's right, Wind. You're jes' makin' history repeat, an' I ain't gonna let it happen here." She looked at the shaken villagers, saw their doubts, and smiled reassuringly. "I ain't gonna abandon ya'll, I never did. You an' this valley ain't never left my prayers, an' now I'm back. We're gonna protect our home, y'hear?"

[Ascension]

Wind flinches at the dual rebukes, dual knives to his heart. Before he can muster a response, his faithful speak up for him.

"You... did, though," a boy speaks up, his eyes locked on Brown Leaf. He can't be much more than fifteen. "Leave us, I mean."

"We 'preciate yer prayers," an older woman agrees, "but they ain't half as useful as yer bein' here."

"Lou-Khan got bored fer a while, without you to play with," the eldest man among the monks adds, in a deep basso, "It were Wind who set her straight, when he got here."

Wind looks to Tuoni as he breaks his silence. There is worry in his eyes, but his voice is firm.

"I was not blind to the lesson of Kidale's death. I know righteous purpose alone is not strength enough to set the world to rights," he says, "But I have never intended to throw away anyone's lives. Kirighast was not meant to hear of this, not at this stage. Since they have, we will have to leave, at least for a time. My monks, and all the valley's shrines and icons to the Sun... we won't be here when the Realm arrives. They wouldn't pursue us south, into the desert... or perhaps the cult of the Daughter of Elegiac Winds might be able to give us shelter; I have heard rumors that their cells in this region have a Lunar protector."

He nods; he's convinced himself of this change of plans.

"We will endure the persecution we suffer, the trials and tribulations of life in this corrupt world. And still the light will spread. All the strength of empire cannot slay an ideal. The Day still comes; the might of the Shining Ones will be united against the Dragons' get; and we will, ultimately, triumph. The Sun may set for a time, but He will never been conquered. I have faith in this."

[Malozing]

With the monks speaking up about Leaf’s absence, Slang couldn’t help but feel a nervousness. The Tya found these young monks could easily be compared to Remora’s crew. Slang shakes their head to clear the thought from their mind and steps forward, placing a steadying hand on Leaf’s shoulder.

“Either way, Leaf did best she could to set up everything to protect you all before leaving when she was called away,” Slang says. “She may have hoped it was enough, but sometimes, life doesn’t always go as planned.”

“You choosing to learn to defend yourselves and your homes is a good thing, but like Wind and Tuoni have said, it is best not to tangle with a Hunt at this point and have unnecessary deaths. How we’ll manage that really should wait until we’ve had some rest. We rushed here as soon as Leaf told us what she heard.”

Slang squeezes Leaf’s shoulder as they lean in closer to whisper into her ear.

“Rest and clear your head. Your home might have changed while you were gone, but the people are still the same people who you grew up with. We need to find the best way to protect your people.”

With their piece said, Slang's mind wanders back to the Remora with slight anxiety.

[Sticks]

Wind's words might as well have been grains of sand against a mud-brick wall, enough of them thrown with enough force over years might have an effect, but the villagers' words shattered Leaf's resolve like a sudden earthquake. How appropriate, then, that Captain's Slang's encouragement began mending the damage almost as soon as it had been inflicted. They were right, she had done everything she could think of for her people before leaving. It had not been enough, but that just meant she had to think deeper and try harder.

"I'm sorry I was gone fer so long, but the valley-folk've been strong since long a'fore this temple were built, an' it didn't need no savior before me. I...I can't be what y' want me t' be. Ya'll know me, known me since before I was crawlin', an' I ain't any different now. This valley..."

She gestured around at the high clouded mountains, the sand gleaming in the sun and the distant strings of smoke from the waking villages.

"This is...all it needs t' be. Wind, you don't get that. You want a world without dragons...I want a world like this, stable. It...it needs stewards, folk who know their purpose is t' serve the people an' the spirits an' the land, an' while I'd love t' be that person...I can't...not any more. I seen too much, I tasted the air outside an' I know I can't sit by no more. I can't do that if'n I'm always worried 'bout some great power gettin' it inta their mind t' come here an' wreck the place. I ain't no grand-master, I can't take on disciples an' teach 'em t' fight like me. I'm...I'm jes' a simple country monk, it's all I'll ever be. I need t' know that nobody's got a reason t' come here, an' before that were jes fear'a somebody lookin' t' ride in here an' rule it...but now I'm scared'a somebody comin' in an' changin' things usin' me. If you leave here, now, yer takin' my peace'a mind with you."

She reached up, squeezed Slang's hand in gratitude, then leaned into Wind's shadow, staring up at him. "You ain't runnin' off an' leavin' the consequences'a yer problems again. Didja know that after Kidale, the Realm killed some boy what looked like him? Staked 'im up an' a dozen others. They don't need you here t' persecute my people, an' we can't let 'em investigate. You leave with yer trappings, an' what? Them Immaculate 'nathema hunters won't notice a couple dozen villagers with fightin' injuries an' shaved heads? You take 'em with you, an' they see a lotta empty houses an' beds, then burn down the villages t' root out any survivin' cultists? What else? They go t' see Lou Kahn or any'a her client-gods, an they hear-tell 'bout two, two golden Immaculate monks who lived here an' worked with the villagers? Naw. You dug yersself in too deep. Yer seein' this through, an then yer goin back t' Jasara t' apologize. Yer gonna do that, or we's gonna have a problem, y'hear?"

I think Leaf is going to take some Limit from that rebuke. It stung pretty hard.
[roll0]

[Ascension]

Wind looks troubled when Leaf recounts the public executions in Chiaroscuro, but when she's finished saying her piece he shakes his head, incredulous.

"You say, 'We can't let them investigate,'" he echoes, "but how in Creation do you intend to stop them? Defeat them before they reach the valley, send them running? They would only come back in greater force, and if you can't stay here and won't let me stay, then someone would end up suffering their retaliation without even the hope of Exalted assistance.

"Presently, we could still eliminate all hard evidence of 'Anathema' presence here. They might still compel the truth from a villager or from Lou-Khan, but we would at least have a chance to allay their suspicions. If you were to attack them, though, you would remove all doubt."

He takes on a pleading tone, desperate for Leaf to see reason.

"Please don't let nostalgia overwhelm your judgment. Were it achievable, your ideal of stasis might be fine for a place like this, remote, rural, and possessed of few of the resources the Realm hungers for, but I doubt the slaves at the Bent Creek mines would cherish your fear of change. Nor the Djala freed by Kidale and Faka Kun."

He lets out a heavy sigh.

"But I suspect your friend is right. We can all approach this with clearer heads when you have had time to rest and I've had time to process this news. It's likely pointless to keep going on like this."

Kelam drifts to Leaf's side.

"Don't let him get under your skin," she whispers. "Everyone's emotions are running high, and I think everyone's a little overwhelmed at the moment. Take this breather, talk to me. We will find an answer, okay?"

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf's first impulse was to keep the argument going...but she could see that would go nowhere. If she wanted the people of the valley to understand...whatever it was she was trying to make them understand, she'd figure that out later...then she would guide them by example.

"Kelam's right, we got time before the Immaculates an' Brides get here, they'll haveta ride or walk, an' it ain't a short journey. I'm goin' inta the valley. Sand-creek's millstone prolly needs replacin' since I left, might see if'n I kin help."

With that, Brown Leaf turned on her heel and walked out of the monastery, headed into the hills and fields of her homeland, and whatever work waited there. At no point did rest cross her mind.

[Ascension]

Kelam follows Brown Leaf out of the monastery. Even with her longer stride, she has to hurry to keep pace with her determined girlfriend.

"Leaf! Pearl... Please... wait. Slow down. It's been a full day since we've slept. I know how much it means to you to help your people, but you won't help anyone by exhausting yourself."

She puts her hand on Leaf's shoulder, not restraining her, but simply making contact.

"Don't they deserve to have you at your very best?" she asks softly.

[Sticks]

Leaf did stop, but did not turn back.

"I can't, jarabi. I can't rest now. You heard 'em, I di'int leave 'em prepared enough. They think I shouldn'tve left at all. I ain't...I ain't what he's convinced 'em I oughtta be." She spat the pronoun as though it tasted bitter. "I been gone two years, an' in that time they been needin' somebody t' look after 'em. I shoulda known I couldn't trust 'em t' Lou Kahn, hell, that's what the damn Order's about. We put spirits in their place an' make sure they don't take advantage'a folk...DAMN IT!"

Brown Leaf stomped a foot in frustration, stirring up a cloud of sand and causing a tile to fall off the compound wall's roof. She turned to look at it dejectedly. "...I shoulda known...I'm better at breakin' stuff than fixin' it, always have been. I broke that tile, this place's harmony, givin' 'em a taste'a what the Sun's power kin do, made 'em want more of it. Maybe if'n I'd been better at not breakin' stuff...Sifu wouldn't've left..." She trailed off despondently.

[Ascension]

Kelam wraps both her arms around Brown Leaf, hugging her tightly.

"Pearl, no... You can't blame yourself for the actions of others. Not your sifu, not Lou-Khan... not Wind or anyone in the villages. They're all their own people... they all made their own decisions."

'And you did, as well, when you pledged yourself to my service,' the dark whisper within reminds her, but Kelam is undeterred. 'I know,' she mentally acknowledges.

"And all of us are limited to the gifts that we've been given. If you want to talk about breaking things..."

Kelam takes Leaf's hand and guides it to her forehead, where the bleeding brand of the Dusk Caste sleeps just beneath the cool surface of her skin.

"I've been consecrated by the Void to murder the world. And I can't just set my nature aside. But you and Lupo taught me that I have the ability... the responsibility... to use my talents, as best I can, to do what good I can. Please hear that word... we do what we can. None of us can fix everything. None of us... individually... can do everything for everyone. We just try to do our best. That's all any of us can ask of anyone."

She lowers her head, touching her forehead to Leaf's, and looks her girlfriend in the eyes.

"We're here for you; Slang and Tuoni and Wic and I are all here for you, and we're going to help you and your people as best we can, but if anything goes wrong... It's not your fault. You didn't make this happen, you never asked for this. You're not callous, you're not indifferent, you're here and you're fighting for your beliefs, and that's all anyone can ask of you. Do you hear me, Pearl?"

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf embraced Kelam in return. She hadn't realized how badly she needed this support, how long she had been going without it. She hugged her girlfriend tight, taking comfort in her presence.Kelam's long hair fell over her face and she breathed in its scent, still carrying a bit of fragrance from the bath-house. She remembered the words of the goddess inhabiting those springs, her jealous scorn for Alhat...and something niggled at the back of her mind.

"Yer right, love. I'm sorry I'm bein' dumb 'bout this. None of us was lookin' fer our Exaltations, but they came t' us by many roads. Now they's ours to do with as we see fit...an yer doin' so well! Look at you, yer not hidin' from yersself no more, yer thinkin' bout today an' tomorrow. An...if I'm bein' unfair t'you, askin' you t' deny yer nature, jes...shake me outta it like yer doin' now. I ain't gonna surpress you, I don't believe you gotta do evil t' use yer power...not any more. I guess I oughtta look at my reflection when I say that too..."

She stepped back, shifting her hand to rest in Kelam's. She ran her thumb along the line of callouses that came from wielding a sword, the one rough part of Kelam's smooth fair skin. Again, the thought niggled.

"Y'know, Wind's problem is that he seems t' think that havin' one means yer' automatically good, an' bein' a Dragonblood makes ya bad...he's wrong there, but he ain't wrong 'bout everythin'. That's what makes it hard t' argue with him. Yeah, a good Dynast is hard t' find, but they ain't all bad, an' outta all the Celestial Exalts we met, ain't a one'a them what wasn't complicated. Wind's tryin' t' make the world uncomplicated, good an' bad...an' I guess I'm tryin' t' do that too, makin' this valley a perfect little slice'a paradise...I jes' wanted t' show you where I came from, how nice it can be, but...things change. I gotta accept that. Places, times...people...I gotta accept that."

Brown Leaf did feel as though she had just left some small burden behind, but that only allowed her to become aware of other burdens she had been ignoring. "Yer right though...I'm dead-tired. Let's see if'n my old cell is available...Dragons...I hope they di'int turn it into no shrine or somethin' stupid."

She would rest first, then attend to those thoughts on the edge of her tired mind.

[Malozing]

As Leaf walks out of the complex, Slang grumbles under their breath. “That isn’t what I said Leaf.”

However, they didn’t go after their circle mate. Kelam could take care of her girlfriend on her own. The two women balance each other out well. Slang turns to Wind and eyes him up briefly.

“Sorry about being gruff with you earlier. Being tired and seeing that one—” the Tya gestures to the monk still sitting on the ground. “with an untended injury didn’t help with anyone’s first impressions. Jasara does think highly of you, and I should have remembered that. She misses you and the others.”

Slang offers Wind a hand to shake.

“I would ask Leaf, but seeing as she walked off, could you direct us to some rooms we could use?”

[pfm1995]

Tuoni snorted behind his mask, but couldn't deny that sleep would be a welcome respite. "Perhaps a better solution will present itself - I see none now. Whatever the path, a conversation with this Lou-Khan seems inevitable - I would like to be there when it happens."

So saying, Tuoni took his leave of them with a nod of thanks to the injured monk and went to find a nice patch of shade.

[Ascension]

Slang:

"I miss her as well," Wind says to Slang, sighing. Though he's better rested, it's obvious that the confrontation with Brown Leaf - along with the dire news she delivered - took a lot out of him. He'll benefit from this respite as well.

"There are plenty of rooms unoccupied, but they may be dustier than you'd prefer. Even with all of us cleaning regularly, I don't have enough followers to really keep up a monastery this size. Some things get neglected. But let me show you what you have to choose from..."

Tuoni:

With the Sun still low in the Eastern sky, there's plenty of shade to be found. Before Tuoni can drift off to sleep, however, it becomes clear that a handful of the youngest monks, along with a couple of the villagers Wind said were here as interested observers, have followed him from the courtyard.

A boy breaks off from the group and dares to walk closer. He waves a hand in front of his face, miming putting on a mask.

"Sir... Do you speak for a god?" he asks, in slightly awkward Low Realm. "Does your god have no face?"

Leaf:

Returning to the monastery, Leaf and Kelam find Leaf's cell almost exactly as she left it. A simple beaten bronze Sun disc has been nailed to the door, and the patina of dust within is thin enough to suggest that someone has done some basic cleaning at least once since Wind occupied the monastery, but nothing within has been moved, removed, or added.

A monk's cot is purposefully not made for two, but Kelam refuses to leave Leaf's side, and the women make the best of the situation. Despite the conditions, and the turmoil of their minds, sleep comes.

But before the couple's slumber has run its full, natural course, a soft but persistent knocking pulls them out of their dreams. Kelam's body stiffens, and she reaches for her sword. Someone is at the door.

Wic:

Drawing an Elemental into existence, shaping the raw Essence of Creation into a living expression of its power, is no small task, but as Wic's circle-mates catch up on sleep, his spell nears completion...

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf stretched and looked about. It couldn't have been more than a few hours, and that more-than-a-nap-less-than-a-night sleep lurked beneath her eyelids and leadened her arms and legs. Even so, she forced herself up, met Kelam's eye and crossed to the door. She pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger, kneading slightly at the inner-corners of her eyes to clear any sleep-dust. Then she slapped herself lightly on the cheek, blinked, and opened the door.

"Yeah?"

[Ascension]

The woman at the door falls to her knees the moment she lays eyes on Brown Leaf.

"Oh, it is you! You have come back to us!"

Leaf recognizes her. Of course she does. Even if Leaf weren't blessed with a phenomenally good memory, you become rather intimately acquainted with a person when you've helped deliver their baby. Which means that the toddler peeking out from behind her mother is... another little Brown Leaf. My, that child has grown.

The mother, Kunda, is not garbed as a monk, but a religious fervor shines in her eyes as she looks up at Leaf.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you... They told me you were resting, but... I couldn't wait. I had to see for myself that our prayers had been answered. I knew you would hear us! When that foreign man came around with his fancy talk, I said 'No, who could trust a man like that?' but I always knew we could trust you."

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf crouched down, frowned slightly as her foggy head also threw her a brief bout of dizziness, then focused.

"Kunda! Hey, no no, git up, please. I...I di'in't realize I'd be missed so bad. Um...come in! We was...we was just gettin' up anyway."

She wasn't comfortable throwing out the lie, but figured the woman was so overcome it would pass without notice. Her eyes fell on the little girl.

"Hey, I know you. We met once, long time back, you pro'lly won't remember 'cause you was still gettin' used t' breathin' an' seein' stuff." She switched positions from her crouch to a less intimidating posture, on her knees and slightly bent, to be on the toddler's level. "I'm Brown Leaf. I grew up here." She pointed around to the walls of the temple dormitories, smiling at the child. "Yer mama an' I grew up seein' each other a lot. I lived here, an' she lived in the same village you was born in."

She leaned against the smooth, dusty wood of the door and pushed it further ajar with her shoulder, so Kelam could see and be seen. "This is Kelam. She's very important t' me..." She paused as the little girl darted behind her mother, then laughed. "Don' worry none, she don't bite."

Leaf turned and smiled back at Kelam, then stood and walked back to the cot, where she sat, leaving the lone chair for Kunda.

"Please, Kunda, come in' an' tell me how things've been since I left. I feel like I been gone fer a lifetime."

[Inspector Valin]

"Heel! Heel, I say!"

Wirric snarls at the swirling maelstrom of essence that's started to take form in the circle he marked out upon the floor. The still forming cloud being lets out a caw, accompanied by a crack of thunder as it attempts to disincorporate, the essence of air longing to spread free across the sky. On another day, Wic may well have found such a display of will charming. Today however, the sorcerer's patience has grown thin. He raises Lusus up, the wolf's golden eyes glinting as the half-circle mark upon Wirric's brow begins to glow. The sorcerer starts to hiss at the proto-elemental, glaring at the spot where its eyes might be, his breath growing short.

"I am a Prince of Creation. A master of sorcery. You exist by my hand, and take shape... by my will. Do not test me."

The runes that make up the circle glow as the light of the Monster Maker's anima intensifies. The storm begins to subside, the shape of a bird beginning to emerge. By will and essence, Wirric has imposed form upon this creature. Even at the edge of consciousness, a Solar can not be so easily denied.

[roll0]Int + Occult + Excellency - 1
[roll1] Stunt Dice

[pfm1995]

Tuoni looks up at the child, his hands clasped over his chest. "I speak and have spoken for many gods." He answered. "But never for the god of this mask, if it still exists. The mask is my elder by centuries, perhaps its face has been word down by the tread of years, or perhaps it never had one. Perhaps it just forgot." The child's insinuation roiled a small part of the shaman's stomach. If a god really did see the world through Tuoni's mask, it would know him more intimately than even his wife - by now it was more his face than the tattered skin and bone beneath it. The idea of sharing that face with another... didn't appeal. Not that he had any reason to suspect that; in the decade since he'd found his mask underneath an overturned fir tree the only thing Tuoni had learned for certain was that it kept its secrets close but it did seem above the petty politicking of the gods. More than that, the mask was his in a way that was tough to define - it acted on his will, and not before.

"Why do you ask?" he asked, returning to the present. "Is there a god you need to speak to?"

[Ascension]

Wic:

After the storm, the rainbow. The sunlight of Wirric's rising anima cracks the nascent thunderbird's cloud-shell, and prismatic radiance spills forth, solidifying as a coat of iridescent feathers. A last stroke of lightning etches the storm-bird's beak, a last boom of thunder serves as its birth cry. Its claws strike Wic's summoning circle as hail, cold and dagger sharp.

The thunderbird draws itself up to its full height, as tall as a man; a moment later, he is a man, his beak a mask pushed back from his face, his wings a feathered cloak draped over his shoulders. His eyes flash defiantly, but his materialization is complete; Wic has already won this clash of wills.

"What may I do for thee? Whom may I war upon?" he asks, in an archaic form of Skytongue, his voice a musical lilt, yet dripping with a ready bloodlust.

Everyone Else:
I should already not be awake, as you, Sticks, will remind me when you see what time I posted this, so Brown Leaf's update is going to have to wait for later. EDIT: That goes double for Tuoni, because I didn't even notice pfm's post until after I hit send on this one.

[Ascension]

Leaf:

Kunda looks at Kelam with confusion and suspicion. The groggy deathknight does not smile, simply nodding her greetings. The sight of her canine teeth might cast Leaf's 'she don't bite' claim into doubt.

Leaf's question mercifully draws Kunda's attention back to her Solar kinswoman. The woman enters the cell, gently pulling her child behind her, but she ignores the chair, instead kneeling on the floor at the foot of Leaf's cot. Kelam shows some concern at the woman's submissiveness, but she chooses to let Leaf deal with the situation. She steps back from the scene, withdrawing into a shaded corner of the small room.

"Times has been lean since you moved on, ma'am," Kunda answers Leaf. "We ain't had anything like the... like the sandstorm what you fought, but... that mister Thousand Grains got errybody used t' havin' a helpin' hand, I s'pose. We had a hard time rememberin' how to do how we did back in the ol' days, before there was any monastery here."

She bows down, presses her forehead to the floor.

"I'm sorry if'n we didn't live up to your expecations."

She sits back up, but keeps her eyes lowered.

"An' then Wind came along, an' he's nice enough, an' he's plenty strong, but... he ain't you. He doesn't have this valley in his bones."

Tuoni:

The boy looks thoughtful.

"Perhaps it is you we should speak with."

He gestures his friends closer, exchanging a few brief words with them in Flametongue. They come and sit in a loose circle around Tuoni.

When all the children are settled in, the boy acting as their spokesperson asks, "You are... Exalted?" and taps his forehead where a Celestial caste mark would form. "Chosen, like Wind?"

He screws up his face in thought, trying to work out how to ask the nebulous question shifting through his mind.

"The gods you speak with... Do you speak to them like a monk? Tell them to... keep their place? Or do you speak to them like a... a..."

He frowns, he doesn't have the right word in Low Realm. He says something in Flametongue, then repeats it, taking special care with the enunciation.

"I am sorry, I do not know how to say it in your speech. But do you... With your power, do you respect the gods?"

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf barely registered what Kunda said, how could she, when the woman she had known for years was kneeling at her feet. Still, she heard enough to follow along.

"Kunda that's...please, don't do that."

Leaf looked at Kelam, meeting her lover's eyes. Confusion, sadness, it was all written plainly on Brown Leaf's guileless face. She slid to the floor, landing softly on her knees, facing Kunda. She raised both hands and placed them on either side of the other woman's face. With a soft, trembling voice, she spoke.

"Kunda...It's just me. I'm still jes' Leaf. Yer mama told you t' call me 'Acolyte Leaf', 'member?That were before she caught us sneakin' striderberries outta the baskets. Me an' you an' Pear Blossom. She said you shoulda known better 'cause yer older, an' we monks oughtta be ashamed fer stealin'. 'Member how we all had t' gather more berries, after dark? Sifu stayed up watchin', t' make sure we did what we was told. Thems were still the best striderberries we ever done ate, right?"

She gently raised Kunda's face to meet her gaze. "Kunda...I'm sorry I di'in't live up t' yer expectations. I ain't sure what people 'been sayin' 'bout me since I left but...I'm still that girl I'm jes...stronger, is all. I'm sorry I weren't here t' help bring in the harvest, or t' help in other ways but...I had t' go. Please...can ya look me in the eye? I'm still...jes...Leaf."

Okay, Leaf is making a social influence roll here. It's funny because she's once again going to use her Charisma and Presence, but in this case to convince somebody she's not awe-inspiring and a big honking deal.
So that is Charisma + Presence + TDS + Excellency (3) + Stunt, throwing in a Willpower for an auto-success.
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
+1 Success

[Inspector Valin]

The question actually takes Wic aback somewhat. The sorcerer spends a second, considering the Thunderbird's words before turning back to the shimmering creature with a smile. "You will have your choice, my friend. I have many wars to fight. But before I can begin..."

He places a hand across his chest. "I must safeguard one close to my heart."

Such is the truth. The vague ideas that are beginning to form in Wirric's head can not begin with that girl lost and alone in the cold. Bring her to safety. Bring her to him. Then this growing plan can reach its next stage. He looks solemnly at the Thunderbird, meeting his creation's gaze. "My daughter is lost. I believe her to be stranded upon an iceberg in the White Sea. She strove to evade my enemies, but they may still hound her. It would take a bold and daring hero to find her, and bring her safely to me."

Wirric clenches his fist, but now manages a bold smile for the Thunderbird. "Are you ready for such a challenge?"

[pfm1995]

Tuoni nodded at the initial question, though he didn't feel the need to provide proof. "I am Chosen yes, and I believe I take your meaning. I.." Tuoni started, before he realized he didn't actually know the answer to their question. He 'respected' the gods, of course he did, he had for his entire life. But, was he not married to one? And not as a worshiper, either, but as an equal partner in a relationship that now had the potential to be longer than the current age. And had he not intervened, with force, when Seven Venoms' Sea had threatened himself and his friends?

"I... hm. I have done both, and I think I find neither to my liking. The Immaculates, and their Order, they treat the gods as something outside the communities they rule, when they should be a part of them. Not above, not outside, but among. Such is the way in much of my home." And, while it's true that some gods stood above and outside the Linowa, more did not - many could tell tales of feasting in Golden-Eyed Jorst's hall, or dancing round the fire with the gods and goddesses of the rivers and lakes. It was... good. When it worked.

"I begin to believe, though, that there may need to be those who stand above both, to prevent abuses." Tenepeshu, and the entirety of Champoor, was a sterling example but so too was Ahlat. But was Tuoni describing himself? He didn't know - he certainly didn't want that job, but it bore thinking about. Later. These children had come to him for a reason.

"Does that answer your question? Which do you want for me to be?"

[Ascension]

Leaf:

Okay, that erodes the strength of Kunda's Intimacy toward Brown Leaf by a step, but doesn't eradicate it, so...
Kunda holds Brown Leaf's gaze this time, but...

"You've got nothin' to apologize fer!" she blurts out. Maybe she's trying to convince herself, but as she continues, her conviction seems to reassert itself. "Not live up to my expectations... how could y' not? Yer... jes' wonderful. All that power Wind talks 'bout usin' t'change the world... you gave it all to us! Tha's all we needed all along. Not some foreign savior, not some greedy-guts god, not even no monks, jes' one of our own, with th' strength t' keep us safe."

She clutches Leaf's hand.

"I heard whisperin' that Wind's gone and got us inta trouble, but I know you kin fix it. I know you will. Tha's why yer here, now."

Wic:

The prideful thunderbird looks down his nose at his master.

"What dost thou take me for?"

He preens the feathers of his cloak with his fingers.

"I will deliver her. I guarantee it."

And then his mask is his beak again, his cloak his wings. He spreads those wings to their full span, and their first beat sends dust devils spiraling across the monastery's courtyard. The wind strengthens as he lifts skyward, and by the time he rises above the walls of the valley, his every wingbeat brings a clap of thunder.

And so the living storm flies unerringly North.

Tuoni:

The boy frowns, and rubs at his shaved head.

"I want to know... whether I have made a mistake. But the Chosen themselves do not know this, it seems."

He looks around the circle of his peers, the other children looking to him, waiting for his translation, or for his verdict.

"It is hard, knowing the right thing."

[Sticks]

"That's..." Leaf paused. She couldn't deny what she knew to be true, but at the same time, she did not want this...perception of her to get out of hand. At least no more than it already had.

"Yeah, Wind's done stirred up a whole mess'a trouble agin' this valley, an' that's why we're here." She indicated Kelam with a jerk of her head. "Kelam's an amazin' warrior, an we got Tuoni, who might be able t' help with Lou Kahn, if'n she's been actin' out. Cap'n Slang's likely tougher'n they look, an...I dunno if you seen them, but you gotta see them scars'n stuff, it's crazy. An' then there's Wic, he-" At that moment a clap of thunder rang out, shaking the room.

"...is prolly what's causin' that. It's okay, he's on our side."

She stood, gently tugging Kunda to her feet. She smiled reassuringly, looking between the woman and her daughter, little Brown Leaf. "I'm jes' so glad t' be home. Let's git errybody t'gether now we've had some rest...'least I hope they done rested."

[Malozing]

Slang subconsciously moves at the sound of thunder; as if shifting with the rocking motions of a ship in rough waters, the Tya slams hard onto the floor.

“Owwww.”

The sudden jolt made it harder for Slang to regain their barrings. The thunder continuing in the distance, slowly fading, helps clear the fog in the Captain’s head.

Hearing soft murmurings down the hall, Slang walks out of the slightly dusty room they borrowed toward the conversation. From an open door, the Captain could hear Leaf speaking in Flametonge with another. Not wanting to startle anyone, Slang knocked on the door frame before poking their head in.

“Hi.” Slang nods at the woman and waves at the little girl before turning to Leaf and Kelam. “Sounds like Wic’s done. Did you two get any sleep?”

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf smiled and pulled the door further open. "Oh, hey, Cap'n!"

She turned back into the room. "Kunda, this here's Cap'n Slang, one'a my friends. They're a Tya, from way off in the Western Sea. Kunda, sometime later how's 'bout we take little Leaf down t' the library an git out Sifu's ol' atlas? Oh yeah!"

She whirled around again.

"Cap'n, this here's Kunda, me'n her grew up t'gether. An' this's her lil' girl, Brown Leaf. Heh, guess you kin figure where the name comes from. An..." A thought struck her; no she was no-longer tired. She had things to do, how could she be tired when there was work to be done? But...she wasn't everybody. She and Kelam had never...exactly shared a bunk before, in the literal sense, she didn't know her girlfriend's habits.

"Hey, Jarabi, you get enough sleep? I could go fer some more down-time if'n you need t' rest."

[pfm1995]

"Yes, it is," Tuoni commiserated, "when there may have never been a right thing at all. Find your grandparents, child, and speak to them. I find they often settle things, one way or another."

[Ascension]

Tuoni:

Tuoni can tell from his expression that the boy is still not quite satisfied with that answer, but it's good enough. He says a few words in Flametongue, and the children stand.

"Thank you, sir," he says to Tuoni. "You have given me much to think about."

With that, the children disperse, leaving the shaman to his rest.

Leaf and Slang:

Kelam gives Leaf a thin smile. In her sepulchral Old Realm, she says, "The Sun is still up, isn't it? Then I haven't gotten enough sleep. But I'll manage."

Everyone:

While the Exalts could likely all have used more rest, the clap of the thunderbird's mighty wing beats are as sure a summons from slumber as any rooster's crow, and equally sure a sign to the inhabitants of the valley that something supernatural is afoot. By the time Leaf, Slang, and Kelam step out into the courtyard again, trailed by Kunda and her girl, Wind is waiting for them, standing near Tuoni's dwindling patch of shade.

"I'm sorry your rest was interrupted so soon, but it is good to see you," he greets them. "I've already sent runners to warn the villages of the threat we face... rumors would have spread regardless, and they likely would have made it sound even worse, so best to take responsibility for the message now. However, we need to come to an agreement on how we plan to respond. It will be best for everyone if we can present a unified front."

He nods toward where Wirric recently saw his summoned thunderbird off.

"That means catching your sorcerer up to speed on the situation as well."

[Inspector Valin]

Wirric sits there in the pagoda, watching the Thunderbird fly with a satisfied smile. He has confidence in the creature: it would be thorough, and possesses more than enough strength to see his daughter through the path to safety. Freed from the worry of her fate, at least for the moment, Wic takes a second to lean back against the wall, closing his eyes with a sigh. The sorcerers mind turns slowly, reluctantly, to the chain of thought the Thunderbird's question had begun.

War.

This Circle had been formed essentially to stop a war. The Hortatum's plan would likely lead to some form of large scale conflict between the Realm and newly emerged Solar powers. Such a campaign would be destructive for both sides, and so opposing the rogue Sidereal seems perfectly logical. A protracted, bloody conflict over the future rulership of Creation is in no one's best interests.

But can it truly be avoided?

Look at Wind. Look at the people here. Brown Leaf might hate to admit it, might rightly point out that Wind's actions had drawn the Realm's attention, and yet... the disciples seem happy. They are developing themselves down a path that seems positive, training and living together. The mislead monk at the head of it all was likely furthering the Hortatum's plan in some subtle way, but leaving that aside, Wic struggles to weigh his actions. In striving to help people and share his beliefs, he'd provoked armed conflict and placed lives at risk. Does that mean he should not preach his doctrine? Not try to uplift and inspire the people around him against a tyrannical state that hadn't cared about this little valley in decades? It's hard to condemn heartfelt preaching, at least from what little he's witnessed so far. And he can't see any way in which this action could possibly profit the Zenith.

Wirric groans to himself. He wants to say that Wind is wrong in acting so directly. The lessons of a lifetime in Whitewall speak against what the Zenith is doing here. Wic's instincts, when not overtaken by emotion, are always to stifle change and eliminate factors he can't predict or control. Threatening the status quo is a bad idea. You don't know what the consequences will be. Things could get so much worse. It'd been why Brown Leaf had made him so uncomfortable at first, back in the Arena of the Sun. The sorcerer chuckles to himself. Hasn't that always been his way? Worrying about about rash action and consequence, while the Hero of Harbourhead charged forward to right wrongs and pull evildoers into her ineffable chorus.

And that might be where he's always gone wrong, on reflection. What had keeping to the status quo ever done for Wic Stanton? It'd held him down there in his little cellar, year after year, keeping his objections and fears to himself. Every time he'd fretted about the Arena and its operation, the status quo was what he clung to, the shield that stood between him and the cell block. Wirric shudders at the memory of his table, of the blood and bile his work entailed. Even now he can still feel the whispers of doubt, cold as the breeze on the back of his neck. People like Cathak Pala think along such lines too, even if they would be disgusted by the comparison with as low a man as Wirric. Everyone fears chaos. They fear change. And they'll do whatever it takes to halt that threat.

But that attitude leads to tolerating injustice. That change had set Wic free, given him the chance to finally break away from his situation. Defying the status quo was what led to his Exaltation. And it wasn't just him. He might not speak for Tuoni but Brown Leaf had won freedom from the chains of Immaculate doctrine, Ivory Knife had been willing to slay a king as soon as the chance presented itself, and who knew more about defying the situation you were presented with than Captain Slang? All the Solars Wirric had met stand beyond what is, and strive towards what could be, what should be. Is that the will of the Unconquered Sun for his Chosen? Were they not warriors and revolutionaries in the times before the first Solar Deliberative?

And yet - isn't this exactly how The Hortatum thinks? The man who'll lie, cheat, and set his charges into a trap in order to act for the good of the world.

In the upper floor of the pagoda, Wirric chuckles under his breath. However far he's come, whatever he might aspire to, even when pondering how best to do good... at his heart, Wic Stanton remains the same man the Syndics had sentenced. He looks up towards the roof of the pagoda with a strange grin, echoing the words of the three divine justices of Whitewall.

"Villain, Villain, Thrice Damned Villain."

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf sighed, disappointed that she was in agreement with Wind. "Yep, I'll go git 'im."

She walked to the front of the pagoda-tower, paused before its small shrine, and leapt. She sailed up over the crenelated tiles of the roof, clearing the first and second tiers of roofing. Her jump carried her almost to the third tier, but not quite. The octagonal eve passed below her chest, then suddenly rose past her face as she fell. With casual ease, she extended her hand and caught a sturdy beam, the faded paint worn where she had gripped it in times gone by. A quick flex of her arm lifted her onto the roof, and memory guided her feet to the best angle for the next stage. She sprung upwards, gripping the red-painted wood of the fourth roof's rafters one-handed. She swung, tucking her legs in so that she landed atop the warm tiles on her feet, facing the same direction as when she hung below. She turned, backed up a few steps, then took off at a run across the sloped pantiles, leaping feet from the edge to grab the fifth-tier beam that mirrored the ones below. With a flick of the wrist, she spun herself up and landed on the outermost point of the roof, facing inward at the topmost floor, shaded by the eight-sided center-peak under which stood Wirric.

Brown Leaf straightened, dusted off her hands and smiled at the sorcerer. "Heya bud. We're fixin' t' have a meetin' down b'low. I reckon yer plumb tuckered out from alla yer storm-summonin' an' whatnot. How'sabout I take you back t' ground-level quick-like?"

Just a fun bit of fluff here, Leaf probably trained by climbing this Pagoda regularly, only since Exalting she can skip the first couple stories by just jumping. Those were always the most tedious part anyway. So, that first jump was brought to you by Monkey Leap Technique, and the rest is a climbing Athletics action. I described it mostly as Leaf being dexterous, but there was some strength involved in hauling herself up so easily. That said, we'll go DEX here.
So that is DEX+Athletics+Stunt+Artifact+Excellency (3)
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

[Inspector Valin]

Wirric, seated as he was, just gapes at Brown Leaf for a second. Then the sorcerer grins, unable to hide a chuckle at the rambunctious monk. "You are incorrigible."

Slowly Wic pulls himself upright, using Lusus for support. He does feel somewhat tired. He walks slowly towards Leaf, nodding, "Very well. I doubt I have much to add, but as ever, I am at your service. And now my mind can rest a little easier, thank the Sun."

[Sticks]

Wirric, seated as he was, just gapes at Brown Leaf for a second. Then the sorcerer grins, unable to hide a chuckle at the rambunctious monk. "You are incorrigible."

Slowly Wic pulls himself upright, using Lusus for support. He does feel somewhat tired. He walks slowly towards Leaf, nodding, "Very well. I doubt I have much to add, but as ever, I am at your service. And now my mind can rest a little easier, thank the Sun."

Leaf laughed, she couldn't help it. Wic's face was just too funny right now. "Haha, ain't I just? An' don't sell yerself short, you got lots t' offer, I know. I'm dang-sure happy yer' gonna be able t' rest easy, 'cause after all you been up to, I reckon you could do with a lil' shut-eye. You kin' take my cot if'n you want...naw, might git woke by folks comin' t' genuflect or supplicate or whathaveyou..."

She slid herself up alongside Wic, gripped his waist with one arm-boy but he could do with some feeding- and approached the edge. With feline grace she swung down, taking things slowly for the sorcerer. Roof by roof, they descended one level at a time until they were on the pantiles above the shrine-entrance. Leaf let go of Wic's waist, took his arm and lowered him to the ground, before jumping down after when he was secure.

"Okay, les' git this thing goin'!"

[pfm1995]

Standing with the others, Tuoni stretched some of the ground's cold out of his limbs as he waited for Brown Leaf and Wic. "I don't know that there's much to be talked about." He said in passing. "This position has not changed while I was sleeping. Run, far and fast, or die."

[Malozing]

Slang greets Wic with a small smile and nod before turning to Tuoni.

“That would be the easiest plan, but how do we ensure that the surrounding villages don’t take the brunt of the frustration of the Hunt and the Brides?” Slang argues.

The Tya glances around to the others, their eyes unconsciously settling on the Guildsman. The Captain mutters mostly to themselves as a way to process the situation.

“We’ll need to hide away all of the items that would indicate that any Anathema stayed here. Hm… with everyone here acting as if they were Immaculate…that might not be enough…”

Slang blinks when they realize that they’ve been staring at Wic for Sun knows how long, and before they could turn away, an idea pops into the Captain’s head.

“Wic, what you did to disappear in Kirighast, was that sorcery or could Tuoni possible be able to do it too?”

[Inspector Valin]

Wic blinks at Slang's question. He can't begin to guess what the Captain might be thinking, but gives the good Tya the best answer he can provide. "It's an inversion of the Twilight anima, drawing yourself through it. You could do it if you wanted, Tuoni. It should keep you suspended in Elsewhere until dusk or dawn: whichever comes first."

Confirmation given, Wic turns back towards his own train of thought, looking to Wind. "Why do the Realm and Ahlati know about this place? The valley is quite remote and not the most easily accessible. Who told them? Why were they believed?" The sorcerer tilts his head, studying the monk closely, "For that matter, who told you? Why did you pick this place after Chairoscuro? It's quite a coincidence you ended up venturing to Brown Leaf's home ground, with all of Creation before you."

Of course, with their adversary such a coincidence may be nothing of the sort. But trying to convince Wind of the truth is more a challenge than just guiding him down the path they need.

[pfm1995]

"I have done it before." Tuoni confirms, though he doesn't sound enthused by the idea. "But there is a drawback. When I emerge, it will be at the nearest place of power and, as Wirric learned, such places are rarely unoccupied. What are you thinking?" He asks.

[Ascension]

"I came across this valley by chance," Wind says in response to Wic's question. "When I left Chiaroscuro, I was bound for Harborhead, but I chose to skirt south of the Varang states... most of them are inimical to foreigners, so the few trade routes which are open through their territory are heavily trafficked, and I wanted to avoid curious eyes until I was further from the scene of Kidale's death. My southerly route happened to carry me here, and when I picked up whispers that the people had already had positive experiences with a Solar, I realized this would be an ideal place to begin spreading the good word.

Chance. Another word for Fate, perhaps?

[Sticks]

Settling from climbing into discussion, Leaf followed Wic over to the group and stood between the Sorceror and the rather bemused Kunda, with her daughter. She threw Kelam a wink, then leaned over to Kunda and began a whispered translation.

[Inspector Valin]

Chance. Perhaps. Not as great a one as Wind might think, however. His avoidance of the Varang was predictable, so it would not have been hard for Nasir to guess his rough route. It still couldn't be guaranteed that he would've passed this way, but when your foe commands the Loom of Fate, a finger on the scales of life seems all too plausible to Wirric.

Still, best not come off as too much the crackpot. Instead, Wic nods, accepting Wind's story for the moment. He lets a second pass before idly positing his next question. "What business led you to Harborhead?"

Turning to glance up at the Pagoda, Wirric chuckles, resting his weight on Lusus. "Forgive me. This land is fine, and the people seem exceptional. My pride's just a touch wounded. I was always taught Whitewall was the holy city of the Unconquered Sun back in the First Age. The Syndics still work to restore our old murals and friezes. It surprised me a little that you were intending to make your way towards the home of the Fane of Upswept Horns over the city with a Temple to the Sun still standing proud in its heart."

A persuade action to answer fully and honestly. Wic's trying to use an intimacy towards TUS, 'shouldn't you explain why you didn't come and see the Sun's holy city?'
[roll0] Manipulation + Presence + HPM +1m Excellency (free) + Listener Swaying Argument (discounted to 2m). Wic adds an autosux and bonus dice if Wind boosts Resolve
[roll1] Stunt Dice

[Ascension]

Kunda quails again as Leaf begins translating.

"I don't got no need to be party t' th' councils of th' mighty," she says. "I know you'll speak fer th' interests of th' valley, Brown Leaf. I know you'll do right by us."

"Though my faith has changed, I am still a monk by calling and vocation," Wind answers Wic. "I chose to go where the need is greatest. Harborhead is doubly oppressed, by Realm domination and by Ahlat's divine overreach. I want to help these people throw off their shackles."

He glances Northward, frowns.

"Whitewall's time will come."

[Sticks]

Leaf gave Kunda a look she intended to be reassuring, though probably came off as mildly frustrated. "Don't doubt yersself. Sometimes folk with power git so used t' talkin'a great things that they ferget what it's like t' live day t' day. You know what livin' here's like, you been here longer'n me, an' you done set down roots."

She crouched and offered her hand to little Brown Leaf, giving her a full, genuine smile. "Hey, lil' Leaf. I know it's borin' with all the grown-up talk, but wanna git up on my shoulders? Then you'll be almost's tall as my friend here. He does magic!"

"That okay with you, Kunda?" She looked up at her friend from the valley, hoping to bring her out of her shell of reverence even a little.