Session Report: 18 June 2021
The Hand of Dawn
General Summary
In this session of Tsuwamono, the following events transpired:
Secrets of the Sūhai1559年11月16日 09:00 (Morning)
Shimonoseki
Historical Entry: Secrets of the Sūhai
The morning's tournament fights were over, yet the sun was only halfway to its zenith. As the event grew closer and closer to its finals, the fewer heroes were participating, and therefore each batch of matches took less time overall. It was up to the visitors, then, how to spend the rest of the morning. Many opted to remain in Shimonoseki and enjoy the Mōri Clan's hospitality. Others pursued business elsewhere in the land. Recent victor Fubuki would do neither of these. Not exactly. Instead, the cold-eyed oni approached Mōri Motonari in her clan box. The Daimyō's wife, Kikkawa no Myōkyū, was with her as usual, and did not miss Fubuki's approach. Both gave their congratulations to the victor. That match had indeed been a spectacle, with both Fubuki and Randi Carter growing to giants and engaging in a battle of colossi for all to enjoy. The logic behind Randi's transformation was obvious. At least, to someone schooled in matters of the occult. Fubuki's embiggening, however, did not seem to have any obvious spell behind it. Myōkyū, as a bit of a mage herself, put this to voice and asked the other how she'd* managed it. In response, Fubuki stated that it was part of a power she'd* picked up along with a curse. As if to display, the cold-eyed oni took off her* mask and was rendered, suddenly, mute. Further, she* began to poke the side of her* head, eyes changing color with each successive prod. This performance delighted Myōkyū, but Mōri Motonari herself seemed less amused. Instead, there was a certain sense of judging, or measurement, behind those steady eyes. The specifics of her* powers aside, Fubuki had actually come here to ask a question. With mask back in place, the pseudo-oni asked whether there was anywhere Motonari could recommend for training. Fubuki's next match was against Honda Tadakatsu, after all. A legendary opponent. Motonari did not answer right away. Instead, she asked whether Fubuki had the gift she'd* been granted earlier, in honor of her contributions to the safety of the tournament. The Hannya Vizard. Indeed, Fubuki still had it, although she* possessed yet little idea of what the artifact's purpose was. It seemed, to the arcane eye, to have something to do with illusion magic. Beyond that, however, details were harder to make out. Motonari was not about to help in this respect. The Daimyō only said to wear the mask and proceed beneath the arena when ready. Further directions did not seem forthcoming, so Fubuki merely thanked the other and returned to her* seat. As she* prepared to venture below the arena's stone walls, Fubuki had but one regret. Randi Carter, with whom she* had fought not long ago, was still unconscious. The Black Blade had wished to trade a few words after their like exchange of blows, but it seemed that would have to wait. A quick word from Aka no Kitsunebi, however, reminded Fubuki that she* was not powerless in this regard. Even a mite of ki healing was enough to rouse the Dreamer from her slumber. As it turned out, Randi took her loss quite well in stride. Being a sore loser didn't seem to be in her nature. Rather, the little maverick was just pleased to have made it this far. She was more than pleased to answer Fubuki's questions about the Dreamlands. First of these was who controlled passage through the Japan-Dreamlands rift. The Caelestis Collegium, Randi answered. They were a group based in Dylath-Leen also made up of powerful Dreamers. Unlike the Dreamers of Celephaïs, however, those of the Collegium held far fewer scruples. They would let anyone into the port, even Fubuki if she* so chose. That, indeed, was part of the problem. Many forces existed in the Dreamlands that it was not wise to peddle with. In thanks, Fubuki told a tale of The Sunken City, much to Randi's delight. The maverick Dreamer had wanted to visit those ruins beneath the Dreamsea for many years, but had not found any other souls brave enough or capable enough to join her. Fubuki offered that they might go together sometime, to which Randi heartily agreed. They promised to seek each other out next time Fubuki was Dreaming, then parted on friendly terms. That left only the matter of Hisashi Juju. The intrepid Kyūso merchant had more or less joined Fubuki's loose organization as part of a debt repaid and an investment to be multiplied. To say that Juju was excited to work on a flying casino ship was an understatement. While Fubuki descended below, her* attendants Aka no Kitsunebi and Taira no Tokuko promised to take their newest acquaintance to the Matsumoto Black Galleon and get her settled. With those all settled and her* blades still free from further mochi attacks, Fubuki was now free to take Mōri Motonari's advice and descend beneath the arena. The Daimyō had been a bit cryptic in her instructions. Fubuki had to guess that she'd* figure it out when she got there. Slipping the Hannya Vizard over her* features, everything focused into slightly sharper contrast than before. Beyond that, nothing seemed to happen. As Fubuki took the wooden stairs down into the stone passage below, she* felt a pair of eyes watching her go. That pale, ethereal oni who always seemed to accompany Motonari had taken an interest. Watanabe Hajime, Fubuki recalled that her name was. Was she connected with the Hannya priestesses in some way? Upon arriving in the corridor below, Fubuki took a look around. This was part of the route leading into the tournament stands, and so she* had traversed it many times before. On all those other times, however, the passage had ended at a solid stone wall on the eastern side. With the mask over her* eyes, Fubuki could now see a tunnel continuing on from where that wall should be. Walking through it offered no resistance, and so the Black Blade proceeded inward on a slight descending slope. The stonework here seemed older, rougher than that above. A spiral staircase took Fubuki down what seemed like almost a kilometer of hewn tunnels. At its end, a great stone door was the only exit. Here, Fubuki was not alone. A pair of white-veiled priestesses, just like those whom had carried away dead bodies from each fatal match, stood flanking the portal. It seemed as though they were going to challenge this new visitor, but one look at Fubuki's white-horned mask was all that was required. They wordlessly opened the door and gestured to enter. Within, Fubuki beheld a curious sight. Symmetrical lines of cushions had been laid out on the floor of this long, stone hall. Upon each sat a white-masked oni, head bowed in contemplative meditation. At their backs, spaced to regular intervals, a number of corridors twisted away to other parts of this holy complex. What truly drew the eye, however, was the door. At the very end of the hall, it dwarfed the large portal Fubuki had just passed through. Six large, white jewels studded its surface in a circular pattern. Whatever lay beyond this stone gate, it did not look designed to open easily or often. As she* padded through the seated ascetics, Fubuki wondered if she* was expected to join them. There were certainly a few empty cushions scattered amongst those meditating. As she* glanced around, an unusual pair caught Fubuki's eye. That bizarre yellow coat and twisted mask under a mop of black hair; she* had seen them before. This Unnatural Oni had been at the tournament in times past, and had indeed led Maxim on a merry chase through these very catacombs. Next to this spectacle sat a man who stood out for very different reasons. Fubuki had met enough supernatural entities by now to recognize how they carried themselves. This man's face was young, with a boyish prettiness to its angles, but the Black Blade could tell that he was far more ancient than that. If his presence were not enough of a hint, the man's six arms, held out in a medley of meditative poses, confirmed Fubuki's suspicions. This was not an ordinary monk, nor an oni, but something different. Among all those here, he was the only one not wearing a mask. As Fubuki watched, the unnatural oni fidgeted his lanky form upon the cushion. Immediately, one of the six-armed monk's limbs snapped out and slapped the boy on the back of his head. With an admonition to focus, the man's still-closed eyes then turned to Fubuki. He observed that she* appeared lost, which was, to an extent, quite true. The curious-eyed oni explained that she'd* been directed here to train. To that, the monk extended two arms at once. One pointed to an empty cushion on the ground. The other, to a corridor close to Fubuki's back. She* could meditate here if she* wished, he explained, or proceed down the tunnel for a more martial experience. With a word of thanks, Fubuki chose the latter option. She* was glad, perhaps, to leave that eerily-quiet room with its rows of silent masked forms behind. This passageway, however, presented its own challenges. While the stone corridor was wide at its arched entrance, the further Fubuki delved, the narrower it became. A few Hannya masks dotting the walls soon turned into a forest of white horns. If not for her* ability to change size, Fubuki might have been hard-pressed to weave through the cramped space. Without warning, she* found its end. At its narrowest point, the tunnel suddenly widened again into a great domed room. This was certainly, obviously, a space for martial training. Great, ten-foot-tall statues battled masked combatants in armed and unarmed combat alike. The golems had what appeared to be a head of the usual proportions, Hannya mask set upon its craggy features. Behind that, the body was an exaggeration of musculature. Great arms pounded the ground and swung in furious sweeps at the masked trainees. Simulacra though they may be, Fubuki sensed real danger here. The only question was: how to begin? As if in answer, a particular masked challenger seemed to notice the newcomer and peeled himself away from the ongoing fracas. Though tall, with his head covered by a wide shade, Fubuki could tell that this was a Human. The man welcomed her* and, without so much as an introduction, offered to guide Fubuki in her* training. This was more or less what the Black Blade had been looking for, so she* agreed. Rather than throw a blow, however, the shaded monk began a lecture. The teachings of Rinzai, he explained, state that a warrior must look within themselves to find their greatest weaknesses in order to improve. What, then, would Fubuki's greatest vulnerability be? That was indeed a puzzler. Fubuki took her* time in considering the question. Eventually, the Black Blade answered that she* acted too often rashly, and relied far too much on the arcane in battle. That seemed to be the correct answer. The shaded monk nodded in satisfaction and offered that clear insight of the self was the truest route to power. On this, he and the Hannya Sūhai fully agreed, which was why he was allowed access to this sacred place. They would train, then, together in a certain manner. Fubuki was not to use her* magic, and should think each action through carefully. The monk would join her*. Perhaps, through this deliberate training, both of them might learn something. Fubuki nodded in agreement. She* was ready to begin.1559年11月16日 09:00 (Morning)
Unknown Location
Historical Entry: The White-Masked Assassin
With the morning's matches already concluded, Aotsuki Tsukamoto found himself with some free time on his hands. Later, he and Saitō Dōsan had a meeting with Maxim and his new friend Nagasone Kotetsu. For the moment, that foreign knight seemed to be wrapped up in some strange business with the Hōjō Clan, however. There was also the matter of these strange mochi-like beings crowding around his legs, but Aotsuki knew a non-problem when he saw one. Any plans the young Daimyō might have made were cut short, however, by a strained message from Abe no Seimei. Her message was simple, yet urgent: Ikkyū had been captured. For such a kind and charming boy, Aotsuki had a lot of enemies, but Ikkyū was among the worst. He was immediately cautious. This seemed far too easy. Still, Hayashi Hidesada had called him through Seimei immediately after capturing the renegade monk. He couldn't just ignore it. With a quick explanation to Dōsan, Aotsuki hailed Shigeaki Fujino for immediate transport to Inabayama Castle. Fujino was happy to oblige, but their journey was not destined to go so smoothly... It felt like slamming headfirst into a wall. Aotsuki's vision blurred as he fell a few feet through the air and landed in something soft and cold. A few nearby "plap" sounds and a big "thud" told him that his Sheele, Fujino, and finally Dōsan had suffered the same fate. Staggering to his feet, Aotsuki looked around. This was a place he'd never seen before. A lonely road, dusted with fresh snow, stretched in front of a clearly-abandoned house. Nothing but snowy fields dotted with sparse trees was visible anywhere around. They were not, however, alone. Near the other side of the flanking house, a White-Masked Merchant stood. The karakuri creature was moving its arm back beneath the snow-specked cloak around its shoulders. Just before it vanished, Aotsuki caught a glimpse of something terrifyingly familiar. A miniature black sun, blazing in unholy negative light, was contained within the mechanical man's wooden arm casing. Had that been what tore them out of Fujino's teleportation and dropped them here? Aotsuki heard the psychic complaining that her telepathy wasn't working either, but the Merchant was already charging at them before he could respond. Again, that lacquered karakuri arm swung from the cloak and grabbed for Aotsuki with deadly intent. As he raised his shield to defend, he saw the foe's palm glowing with angry orange heat. That would certainly hurt to be hit by. Fortunately, Aotsuki was revered as one of the land's greatest defenders for a reason. Not only did he block the attack in full, but his skill allowed him to turn the hand back on its wielder. The merchant, too, was not to be underestimated. It twisted away from the reflected attack and made as if to swing again. In that moment, it hesitated. Aotsuki was watching his foe carefully, and he thought he saw the white mask swing subtly toward Kagami before the Merchant lost its momentum. This robotic marauder had obviously set a trap and attacked them, but Aotsuki still attempted to reason with it before making a move on his own. His questions seemed to fall on deaf ears, however. The Merchant would say nothing, focused entirely on its battle with the young Daimyō. There was still one way to end this without bloodshed, however. Summoning Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi to his hand, Aotsuki charged the blade with Amaterasu's energy and swung down with a mighty Sun Strike. He was not prepared for what happened next. Just as Aotsuki had reflected the Merchant's attack, it too now turned the Sun Strike back upon its wielder with a deft movement of its glowing hand. Aotuski felt Kusanagi no Tsuguri enter his flesh; a dull burning spreading through his body as the heavens spoke peace to his soul. This was his original technique, however. Who better than Aotsuki to overcome it? When those he loved were in danger, it was not the time for peace. Aotsuki shook off the compulsion and returned to the fight. Yet he was not entirely unaffected. Aotsuki felt clumsier somehow, a bit less light on his feet. It was as though a skill he'd worked hard to perfect had been ripped away from him by his opponent's glowing hand. He'd no longer be able to defend with quite the same fluidity as before. Fortunately, it seemed that Fujino had vanished from sight and gotten clear. Even beyond her, Aotsuki was not without allies. He was reminded of this as an enormous axe, well larger than his own body, crashed down over his head at the Merchant. Dōsan had tapped into his own signature ability while Aotsuki and the Merchant fought. Now he stood a good twenty feet or more at his full height, with his weapon and armor shifted to match. Attacking the Merchant itself was folly. Aotsuki had just proven that. Therefore, Dōsan chose instead to smash the ground near their foe's feet. In a blur of speed, however, the Merchant blocked this as well. Its glowing hand interceded itself between Dōsan's axe and its target, throwing the titanic blow away. As the giant himself put it, it was just plain disrespectful. The young Daimyō and his assassin watched each other warily. Both had taken their measure of the other. In the brief lull, Kagami's peerless perception came to Aotsuki's aid once again. She'd been fixed on their attacker since he'd appeared and had come to a curious conclusion: this was no robot. The man beneath the cloak was too fluid and muscular to be a pure machine. What's more, the signature white mask had slight eye slits cut in it. They were hardly visible, especially in the snow, but a pair of jade eyes looked out subtly from beneath the visage. Perhaps they were too focused on each other, or perhaps Dōsan's enhanced strength was simply too great. This time, when the giant struck the ground, the "Merchant" stumbled. He fell to one knee, suddenly vulnerable. It was here that Aotsuki could have struck a deadly blow and, indeed, he felt Kusanagi no Tsurugi almost long for their foe's blood in his hand. Instead, he struck the mask itself. The white porcelain fell away under Aotsuki's precise blow. Beneath was a young man's face. While his features were yet obscured by a covering of bandages beneath his eyes, there was no longer any doubt that he could be a karakuri merchant. Those eyes, jade and piercing, filled with hatred for Aotsuki, were somehow hauntingly familiar. Above them, a kyonshi's charm dangled tantalizingly. A major weak point, if Aotsuki was dexterous enough to grab it. Now that he knew that his foe was more than an assembly of wood and gears, Aotsuki tried to speak once again. The other didn't answer at first, but when asked about why he'd stayed his hand, he responded in a low voice. The Bandaged Avenger's task was with Aotsuki alone. That seemed to be all he was going to get, however. Further questions only echoed in the freezing air as Aotsuki's foe took action. In one, fluid motion, the bandaged maverick rose from his kneeling position into a brutal uppercut. Aotsuki blocked this attack, and the next, but his foe's motions were becoming quicker and stronger with each swing. Something was driving this assault. Something was pushing the avenger forward. What fueled him?! The assassin threw off his cloak, then, and reached out with that hideously glowing karakuri hand. Its lacquered surface pushed past Aotsuki's shield and grabbed onto the young Daimyō's arm. Armor heated and clothing burned. Pain flared through Aotsuki's side as he yanked himself away. It was far from a felling blow, yet the next strike... With the inevitability of the rising sun, the Bandaged Avenger's fist came up in a shattering arc. It passed through Aotsuki's defenses, punched through his armor, and, with little resistance, exploded out of the Daimyō's back. It was a grisly, bloody sight. Indeed, Aotsuki should have died there, and would have if he'd been alone. Tama, who had been quiet up until this point, shouted out in fear and fury. In an instant, a portion of the pain and terrible wound passed on to her, opening up a wound in the sheele's abdomen to match that of her master. Aotsuki was left falling to the ground, coughing, ruined, yet somehow alive. He braced for the killing blow, but it did not come. Instead, the Bandaged Avenger was looking at Tama with aghast horror filling his eyes. He broke off the attack, stumbling back for a moment. With a short, pained mumble about how he was not yet strong enough, the assassin scrambled into a sprint away from the party. Dōsan's axe tried to catch him, yet was thrown away by that same damned karakuri arm. Within moments, moving at a pace no mortal human could match, the Bandaged Avenger had vanished into the snow. Aotsuki was fortunate to have powerful friends. One such had cast a spell of regeneration upon him long ago. Even now, the mangled skin of his stomach was stitching itself back together, the painful and ruinous effects of that deadly blow vanishing at a steady pace. Soon, he was able to stand again, if a bit unsteadily. Worry shone in Dōsan's eyes and Aotsuki's sheele gathered around him. Tsurugi, of course, admonished him for not finishing off the foe when he had a chance. Kagami seemed nearly in tears, and Tama merely relieved that her supernatural intervention had worked in time. From wherever she'd been hiding, Fujino reappeared. She'd missed the grisly spectacle, possibly when she was off chasing a cicada, but could read that something traumatic had just taken place. The psychic's powers had kicked back in when the Avenger left, and so she whisked Aotsuki away without delay. Their destination was still Inabayama Castle, eventually, but they first made a stop at Ōtsu on the way. There, Tama was seen to, and Tokku-hime doted over Aotsuki's horrible experience. Neither of them could quite determine who that man was or why he'd attacked them. Still, they would have to be more careful in teleporting around now, if there was some power that could interrupt it like so. It might be wise for Fujino to have some sort of bodyguard as well. It would be disastrous for the clan and its allies if she were to be kidnapped or worse on some routine business. With those thoughts in mind, Aotsuki bid farewell to his hard-working wife and finally arrived in Inabayama. At his summons, Kuroda Kanbei was waiting for him. So too was Hayashi Hidesada, that agent of the Oda Clan who had brought their prisoner in. Upon making his greetings, Aotsuki glared at the bald, piteous monk locked within the earthen cell. This man, Ikkyū, had caused more perdition with just his words and actions than the full force of an army might have brought about in his lands. It was still a shock that he'd been captured so easily. This was for good reason. As Aotsuki looked closer, the man's scowl didn't have enough malice. The top of his bald pate wasn't quite as tanned as the rest of his face. This was a close lookalike, but it was not Ikkyū. "Ikkyu," as he insisted he be called, deflected all accusations of the sort. He was definitely the same man who had antagonized Aotsuki in the past, and was full ready to accept his punishment. Perhaps Lord Aotsuki was clouded by his rage and was remembering incorrectly, but Ikkyu was definitely Ikkyū, and no mistake. Hidesada was understandably frustrated. This man matched the description she'd been given exactly, and yet he was not their prey. Perhaps a man whom the true Ikkyū had hired to be his patsy. Or, perhaps, as his words suggested, a monk in great debt to the Ikkyū-ikki. Regardless, he seemed intent on accepting Ikkyū's punishment and would not be swayed from asserting that he was the genuine article. Aotsuki felt an unusual rage within himself. After what had just happened today, a patsy was not what he wanted to deal with. As he watched the pitiful man bow and scrape within the cell, and felt Kanbei's eyes upon the same, Aotsuki wondered just how he should proceed.1559年11月16日 09:00 (Morning)
Shimonoseki
Historical Entry: The Many Trials of a Foreign Knight
Sitting in his prescribed place in the stands, surrounded by the many daughters of the Hōjō Clan, Knight Commander Maxim gripped a cute felt doll in either hand. One looked just like him. The other, like Aotsuki Tsukamoto. He briefly wondered how he'd managed to get into this situation. Something was prodding him in the back. Something soft and yielding. Maxim tried to ignore it as he shot off a quick message to Ryūzaki Sanosuke, who stood far away in the crowd holding his own doll. Haures had called this goat-thing which kept handing him dolls a "Gluttony Demon." The trinkets didn't seem to be magical or dangerous, but it was folly to trust a demon, so he urged caution. On that note, Maxim looked over to the Hōjō generals who were keeping him there. Ostensibly, he was supposed to block the view of their resident demon, although he didn't quite know why that was important. The daughters' leader seemed to be Hōjō Ujimasa, so Maxim directed his question to her. Was he free to leave? The other answered that he was still needed, and would have to find a suitable replacement to take his spot before he went anywhere. The place where Maxim was sitting, after all, had previously been filled by Hōjō Ujiteru, and she had received a fatal wound in the most recent tournament match. Maxim's lips pursed as a scowl settled over his face. What, he posed, would stop him from just standing up and walking away? Ujimasa matched his scowl with a respectable attempt of her own. Leaving now, Maxim would earn the ire of a princess of the Hōjō Clan. Was that an enemy he really wanted to have? Any reply the foreign knight might have offered was cut short as something soft wormed its way into the back of his gorget. Maxim reached backwards and pulled out yet another doll. This one depicted a person he didn't recognize. The green clothing seemed to evoke a Japanese lord, but that birdlike, owlish mask on its face was at odds with the image. It held a fan in one hand but was otherwise unarmed. Finally fed up, Maxim turned around and demanded who this doll was supposed to be. The petite demoness behind him, silent up to this point, giggled. She said that one was her favorite: "Katsusada Shishauezaemon." The name was vaguely familiar to Maxim. Had he heard it somewhere before in passing? Regardless, he shoved the doll back, along with the others. What even were these? The goat-thing took all of them except the Maxim doll. These dolls were her "merch," and that one, she insisted, he should keep. With a sigh, the esteemed Knight Commander tucked a cute doll of himself into a pouch for safe keeping. He then had to admit to the other that he didn't really care for dolls, but there was probably someone out there that would appreciate them more than him. The demoness behind him looked crestfallen. Suddenly, Maxim wanted more than ever to get out of there. Fortunately, Kitsuno was all too willing at his request to fill in for his spot. Those Hōjō girls had a unique sense of style, and might make for valuable allies. Maxim had to admit that the fashionable oni would probably fit in better than he in this circle. Before he left, Maxim made certain that he was not leaving this deal empty-handed. In return for helping the Hōjō shield this strange demoness, he asked to meet Hōjō Ujiyasu himself in the near future. Ujimasa was all too happy to agree. Maxim swapped with Kitsuno, then made to go over and meet with Nagasone Kotetsu. It seemed that Shishikura Makiko had brought her to the arena just as planned. As he left, Maxim caught a quick glimpse of Kitsuno, already chatting with the goat-thing and holding yet another Maxim doll. An unfortunate sacrifice. As he approached Kotetsu, however, Maxim felt his mood lifting already. She'd seen his match and, judging from the expression on her face, had been quite impressed. Indeed, the brazen smith had a lot to say about how it was nice to see a weapon of hers being swung around in such a fierce manner. Of course, her works were best used against heavy armor. Maxim's last opponent, Gotō Mototsugu had been wearing only leathers at the most. Still, perhaps next time. Maxim agreed. After all, with her services under his command, Kotetsu would hopefully be seeing a lot of her weapons in use in the near future. He guided her to his group of motley generals, then asked her to stay put for now. After some quick business he needed to take care of, Maxim would return and they'd all go to lunch together. That invitation was extended even to Netabi Shigehisa, sitting a short distance away. Despite their rocky beginnings, Shigehisa seemed to be warming to the "foreign barbarian." He accepted with only a little hesitation. For her part, Kotetsu was not thrilled at being asked to wait. She was on a deadline for that secret project the Mōri Clan had commissioned her on. Maxim assured her that it wouldn't be long. Hopefully. Then, with a quick word to Shigeaki Fujino, he and a few choice companions were off once again. Their destination was Ago Manor. On the way, Fujino had a bit of gossip for him, as was often her wont. Aotsuki, it seemed, had been in a bit of a scrape. Someone had attacked the young lord. More worryingly, they'd ambushed him by interrupting and briefly blocking Fujino's teleportation powers. In light of the situation, the psychic was now looking for a bodyguard. Maxim thought he might know someone suited for the task, but decided to think about it before offering any immediate suggestions. It didn't help that none of Fujino's specifications for her guard actually involved guarding of any sort. Fortunately, Aotsuki had to be safe, for he then shot Maxim a message asking about their meeting with Kotetsu. The knight commander had sent Tarō and Urashima Tarō off to find a place suitable for their large group size. With his own business to attend to, Maxim estimated that they'd meet around noon. They had arrived at Ago's outskirts by that point. Maxim bid Haures to stay, while Kashirin accompanied him to his next stop. The demonic watcher accepted with little hesitation. Indeed, her mood seemed to have improved significantly since coming on this errand. A "small vengeance," she called it. It seemed that even a scrap of meat was better than none for a starving lioness. With Kashirin (presumably) at his back, Maxim trudged off into the marshland bordering Ago Manor. It wasn't a long trip into the brackish water before he found what he was looking for. On a raised portion of land, a bit dryer than most, Maggu had set up some kind of temporary camp. Reed barrels and makeshift, driftwood tables were placed haphazardly around. On them, bits of rusty metal glinted in the tree-filtered sunlight. Maxim's new resident Kappa seemed to be working on a variety of devices. All of them, no doubt, designed for nothing good. As he arrived, Maggu greeted Maxim with a bit of annoyance. He'd made a racket, clattering through the swampy land in his armor like that, and had scared away all the best frogs. Still, when Maxim asked for her to come along on their newest mission, she did not refuse. Even more graciously, he offered to let Maqggu lead the way, so that they wouldn't disturb any more frogs than were necessary. With the water goblin leading the way, it was an even shorter trip back to the manor. He'd hardly been gone fifteen minutes by the time he'd rounded up the members of this little squad and hailed Fujino once again. Their destination, this time, was Osaka Castle. Together with a demonic vengeance lion, a goddess of poverty, a water goblin, and a teleporting doujinshi artist, the foreign barbarian set out to solve a crime.1559年11月16日 09:00 (Morning)
Shimonoseki
Historical Entry: Demons and Developpment
Upon receiving the strange doll bearing his likeness, Ryūzaki Sanosuke had immediately given it over to Takenaka Hanbei for examination. The small tactician gave it her usual magical once-over, but then shook her head. Nothing in this doll's construction or otherwise gave off any kind of supernatural signature. It was truly just a handcrafted felt-and-cotton doll. The most interesting thing about it was that it was wearing Sanosuke's confident good looks. To that note, Hanbei asked if she could keep the thing. Not just for selfish reasons. Rather, she would have more time to check it out in detail if she could take it with her, and therefore be doubly sure that the doll posed no threat to any of them. Supernaturally inert as it was, it was still a gift from a demon. Sanosuke agreed, although he felt a little strange at giving such an item away. Speaking of demons, Sanosuke turned his attention to Othéa. His newest counselor had been the one to bring the doll back. And, indeed, she'd gotten a glimpse of the person giving them away in the process. Othéa described them as a "fine young woman," if a bit goatish around the edges. She may be no expert, but she might be persuaded to bet that the girl was a demon in nature. That all matched with what Sanosuke had seen through Katō Danzō during their recent heist of Odawara Castle. The size matched up too. There weren't any other Hōjō he knew of who could be hidden by just sitting in a circle around them like that. Sanosuke thanked her, but Othéa wasn't done yet. Was this usual? The question seemed to have been gnawing at the bespectacled Dreamer for some time now. She hadn't been in Japan for long yet, to be sure, but she'd already seen several demons. It'd been Othéa's deduction, therefore, that the creatures were simply integrated into Japanese culture. Sanosuke agreed that it was becoming more common, for better or for worse. Until very recently, however, it had not been the usual. At that point, Hanbei chimed in once again. The very same ideas had been taking up space in her mind lately as well. After gathering her thoughts, Hanbei led Sanosuke through her logic. Until just recently, demons were largely unknown in Japan. Some knew that the Tokugawa Clan were from the infernal planes, but other than the likes of them, very few if any had been seen. The jump in numbers had seemed to coincide with their own Hashinara Clan's sealing of the Tokugawa rift to Gehenna. And yet, that didn't quite make sense. Sealing a rift to hell should result in fewer demons, not more. Therefore it was Hanbei's professional opinion that someone was distributing knowledge of summoning rituals to the desperate in Japan. With the Shogun's power waning and war breaking out with increasing frequency, there were no shortage of lords willing to do anything to hold onto their last scraps of power. This theoretical situation matched the practical one they'd run into at Owari Castle. Takayama Tomoteru, driven into a fury by the Oda Clan's recent actions, had managed to summon Raym using instructions provided by an unknown source in the Ashikaga Shogunate's employ. That explanation would account for the increase in demonic presence in the country. So, too, would the Hashinara Clan's recent habit of finding and unbottling sealed fiends. Some of Sanosuke's more secretive sources backed both theories up. If that was the case, Sanosuke wanted to know, would Hanbei be able to detect some kind of summoning signature that could be matched to the person performing these rituals? The tactician merely shook her head. She was a mage of the applied type. Summoning magic and its rituals were entirely outside of her expertise. If she could scan enough demons, however, it might just be possible to figure something out. The Silver General gave this some thought. He was tempted to have Hanbei start right away. After all, there were at least two or three demons within view right now. Instead, he opted to wait. There may be other ways to approach this problem. As he said so, another voice rang with precisely eight words within his head. It was Umbriel. During the match, it seemed that the Eighth Daughter of Avatea had discovered another of the Seven-Branched Sword's tones. It had come about when Hōjō Ujiteru's invisible Gashadokuro had met an untimely end. The resultant thunderclap of inrushing air had activated the Branched Sword, further strengthening its blade. With the other tones Umbriel had been meticulously recording, they were now only missing two more. Sanosuke congratulated her on this success, then encouraged her to continue the search. Soon after Umbriel's presence had faded from his mind, Sanosuke assessed his current situation. The morning's matches were over, yet it was still not close to noon. He had the opportunity now to pursue a few of any number of other matters before the afternoon's battles began. To start, Sanosuke thought, this might be a good time to introduce Miss Chōko Dufour to the scientists at S.P.I.R.A.L.. Approaching the young lady in the dandelion dress, Sanosuke seemed to have caught her on the tail end of a conversation with Hashinara Kiyowara. Chōko was audacious indeed. Or, perhaps, she simply didn't know that she'd been speaking to an aspect of the clan's Daimyō. Either way, the Silver General hailed her and asked if the young miss would like to meet the research staff. To Sanosuke's surprise, Chōko already had. Since being put into Shigeaki Fujino's mental network, the Dufour Heiress had wasted no time in making introductions and connections. She'd been speaking with Sarutaba Chino in depth all morning. Momentarily off-balance, Sanosuke offered that she'd perhaps like to see the facilities for herself. At the same time, he called upon Chino in the mental network. S.P.I.R.A.L.'s lead scientist confirmed Chōko's claims. They'd done a lot of talking today. Rather than elaborate immediately, however, Chino asked what Sanosuke thought of the heiress. Could they trust Chōko Dufour? Sanosuke had to think about it. He answered, carefully, that the young miss did seem to have more selfish than altruistic motives. At the same time, she was part Japanese. None of it meant that they couldn't trust her. Still, Sanosuke urged Chino to take any precautions she saw fit. Perhaps a mentor for Chōko would be in order. At that, Chino came around with another surprise. She was not up to mentoring Chōko Dufour. In fact, she doubted anyone there would be. The young miss had already offered to manage S.P.I.R.A.L. and move them to a cutting-edge laboratory in a yet-to-be-determined location. Had that been what Chōko was discussing with the Daimyō? What's more, Chino was seriously considering the proposition. For all her intelligence, the former herbalist was not much of a leader. Nor did she have a great amount of confidence in herself after what had happened to her previous lord. If Sanosuke thought they could trust Chōko, Chino meant to take her up on the offer and hand over the reins to S.P.I.R.A.L. Things were happening very quickly, it seemed. Then again, that had been the common hallmark of all of Sanosuke's dealings with Chōko Dufour. In a world moving at intense speeds, the Devil in Dandelion operated at one mach above. The Silver General felt an inkling that his decision here would have far-reaching effects for S.P.I.R.A.L.'s future. He paused, and chose his next words carefully.Character(s) interacted with
- Abe no Seimei
- Aka no Kitsunebi
- Alice of Spades
- Ankokuji Ekei
- Bandaged Avenger
- Chōko Dufour
- Goat Demon
- Haures
- Hayashi Hidesada
- Hisashi Juju
- Hōjō Ujimasa
- Ikkyu
- Kashirin
- Kiban
- Kikkawa no Myōkyū
- Kitsuno
- Kuroda Kanbei
- Maggu
- Mōri Motonari
- Nagasone Kotetsu
- Netabi Shigehisa
- Othéa
- Raigō
- Randi Carter
- Sarutaba Chino
- Saitō Dōsan
- Shigeaki Fujino
- Taira no Tokuko
- Takenaka Hanbei
- Tarō
- Tokku-hime
- Unnatural Oni
- Urashima Tarō
- Umbriel
- Watanabe Hajime
- Yatsukahagi
Created Content
Report Date
18 Jun 2021
Primary Location
Secondary Location
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