Fantasy The Empire

[SimulatedSimulacrum]

The Drunken Crane​

A less than fine establishment belonging to the Yamaguchi family. An infamous house full of criminals and the best gamblers in Tengoku. The Drunken Crane is a hotspot for many in Tengoku.

Beyond the cheap booze, the gambling, and delicious dango, Teuchi Yamaguchi's genius of incorporating helpful Geishas with skins as pale as the snow made it unique and charming. Other Ikazaya can only dream of the number of patrons drowning their sorrows in sake.

Tecuhi's official rules are long and detailed, but they can generally be boiled down to a few:

1. Don't ask where the sake is from
2. Don't ask anything about the Yamaguchi's businesses
3. Don't start fights
4. Don't touch the Geishas
5. Pay your gambling debts

Break just one rule and you can expect a visit from the Yamaguchi's enforcers, experienced Ronins with no honor will either rough you up or slit your throat in your sleep.

 

[SimulatedSimulacrum]

Kenji Kimura​

As the sun sets, the young Kimura wipes his eyes after he finished his nap. The sky is scarlet, there's still a little bit of light, but if he idles around any longer it'd be dark before he knew it.

Kenji stands up. He rubs the back of his head, finding blades of wet grass on his palm. It seems the ground was still wet from the rain yesterday. Indeed, despite today's clear weather, the sun seems to have forsaken Tengoku.

Many of the traders that Kenji saw on the way to the hill carried the look of fright and desperation. Some fear that Susano-o has cursed the land, leaving them to deal with the rain and thunder. Crops are suffering from the tireless downpour that happened every other day.

Kenji didn't pay much attention to such affairs. As a noble, his meal, money, and income are always secure. A tough time for the farmers mean little to him. His face is relaxed as he thought about the night he's about to spend at the Drunken Crane.

Kenji dusts off some of the dirt on his Katana and put it around his waist. The young man starts walking towards the Izakaya for another night of luck.

 

[Spoiled Bread]

Emiko

The sun would soon vanish from the horizon, normally the guards would only be wary about thieves and the likes but ever the recent misfortunes occured the townsfolks had beecame much more restless. Crime rate increased and it felts like an unseen disaster could strike anytime. Which was why when one of the guard immediately raised his spear when he spotted a movement from afar, though he put his weapon down when he realized it was just a young girl carrying an empty bird cage with one hand and pulling an oddly calm deer with her other hand. A weird scene but a much welcomed one than having a bandits attack.

"Good afternoon, mister. I am here for the big bonfire. This deer will be my offering." The girl flashed a smile at the guards, her finger tapped the star-shaped badge on her chest. The guard nodded at the gesture, she's not from this town but any help to ensure the success of tonight's festival would be very welcomed by the temple. The guards stood aside and let the girl inside, but one of them was startled when he saw the deer stuck its tongue out at him in an obviously mocking manner. Unfortunately none of his colleagues witnessed it so he would have a hard time explaining this story without looking insane.

The town square was already packed with people preparing for the venue but Emiko easily spotted the monks that would lead the ritual later. After a few light conversation, she handed the deer to the head monk and told him to tie it immediately. Fortunately they're really grateful for her contribution and did as she said. The girl left them afterward, leaving a panicking deer helplessly tied on the ground, as if it didn't realize it was being captured until Emiko left its vicinity.

The girl sat alone on one of the log placed near the pile of firewood as an impromptu bench and quietly watch the preparation process being unfolded. She felt a gentle breeze near her hand and noticed that a faint yellow aura just slipped into the cage. Her shikigami was back. Tamago didn't take any shape yet but she could hear his squeaky voice berating her.

"Geeeee, telling me to possess an animal because you're too lazy to tame it yourself is a big no no from me, O Great Young Master. I used to built wonders! The Skyreaching Tower! The Hanging Garden! The Great Wall! The-"

The girl put her index finger on her mouth and the spirit immediately lose his ability to speak. Tamago swirled around inside the cage in frustation before he finally gave up and stayed still.

 

[americanCaeser]

It should say something about the clientele of the Drunken Crane that even the town drunks tend to not hang around that establishment, instead prefering to bore the spectators of the festival from their ally ways and dark corners. Truly, whether they be mercenary ronin, scarred yakuza, or even blatantly ignored mountain bandits and thieves celebrating a big score, the Drunken Crane was known to house them all. An open house of vices allowed by the government just to keep its unlawful patrons from spreading out through the city. It is a house who owns a small army of enforcers to keep the order and isn't afraid to make certain undesirables disappear should they push their luck, as the government turns a blind eye to the bloody bandit left to rot in the gutter (at least, in an effort to figure out who murdered them). It was no bar you could simply waltz in and make your presence known all wide eyed and full of naivete and hope. Those people were dead before they even left the block.

All of this only speaks to the unease of the drinkers and gamblers as they eyed the lone figure sitting at a table. The gap between them and the other ruffians was noticable, as even among their kind they recognize the symbol that is a set of blades... and a basket. All that was whispered in regards to them alongside the side eyes and glares was a single word.

"Kago."

Normally, these mad men were ronin or well armed peasants. Often they were even charlatans hoping to cash in on the infamy that was the basket wearing samurai of old. However, there was that small chance a Kago could be found that lived up to their stories. The stories of the Four Kago who delved into a mountain stronghold to behead a bandit king. The stories like the Kago who delayed an invading army by holding a bridge by themselves against a force ten thousand strong. The kinds of stories like the namesake of their kind, the Legendary Kago Kimura who fought and died at the summit of the Great Mountain, felled between heaven and earth by the man who would become the first true Kensei. The kind that gave off an air of power and danger like the basket-wearing swordsman who sat at the table alone eating dinner.

Kago was enjoying dinner. The food was good here. The sake was as well. Before them was the half eaten meal of fish, rice, and vegetables still steaming from the kitchen. As one of the Geisha walked past, Kago held up the empty bottle of sake. "Here. A bottle of milk this time, if you please."

 

[SimulatedSimulacrum]

Kenji Kimura​

Children, excited and rambunctious ones, brushed past Kenji's sides. The way his shitagi surprisingly flapped made him grip his sword like he's about to slash someone's head off. It has been awhile for kids to laugh and cheerfully play. The stormy sky would keep most of them indoors, assisting their parents to clean dirt from the rice.

Kenji pauses. The hand on his sword drops as he tilts his head. From a distance, he can see villagers heading toward the center. They carry their own baskets of goods, from rice to sake to livestock. It hits Kenji then, indeed, his father had informed him of a festival to appease Susano-o. As a noble, he's to mingle with the elites, but Kenji decides he's going to blend with the people.

As he enters the city, the lively chatters and driven workers erecting statues of gods and goddesses drowned the gloom that choked the town. Even the surly smith, Busaiku smiled as he arranged the firework display.

The blue eyed, fair skinned strangers were there too. Tall and proud, they seem to enjoy conversing with his clan's senior members. He decided to not venture too close and remained near the gate.

It was then he saw a girl, seemingly to be the same age as him and along with her a deer.

Quite a sight in Kenji's mind. Most would bring common livestock or the already skinned and butchered flesh of the deer. This person brought one alive and strangely docile.

Kenji saw one of the ashigaru guarding the gate baffled. Did he miss anything? Kenji's eyes seemed to wander, but he's watching the deer and the woman in his peripherals.

Just by looking at her, he didn't felt an aura of a hunter. The wild game that she brought would certainly appease the gods, but what of the person herself? Is she a malicious witch consorting with a tengu? Or maybe a skilled ranger of the forest.

He makes his way towards the woman. Kenji stood close enough to the log so that his voice may be heard, but leaving enough space to make it look like he hasn't been watching. "Even Amaterasu struggles to feed the people of Tengoku in these tough times, what's your secret ?"

Spoiled Bread

 

[Spoiled Bread]

Emiko

The rising pile of firewoods reminded Emiko of that time when she and a several other shrine maidens were sent to subdue Tamago. The spirit was going rampage and controlled the villagers to create a gigantic fire. At first they thought he did it for no particular reason as the behavior of a stray shikigami wasn't always logical, but later they found out the middle of the fire was what used to be the house of his dead master.

As Emiko's mind wandered to the past, from the outside she would simply looks like she was staring at the passing people. She didn't even realize someone approached her until she heard him asked something. She turned her head to see a young man with a rather rough face, but from his attire Emiko could tell he was a samurai from the noble family.

"A secret loses its value when told." Emiko replied with a weak smile while putting her finger on her lips. Tamago was a cunning spirit so she usually avoid letting regular people in contact with him.

"Are you from this town? Mind telling me a few stories of what happened here?" Emiko asked the young man, she then pointed at the center of the festival. "I am interested in communal magic and its cause."

SimulatedSimulacrum

 

[Nuclear Magician]

Isayama Masafumi

Location: Temple Steps
Referencing: SimulatedSimulacrum Spoiled Bread


Masafumi sat quietly, waiting for the last few rays of sunlight to slip beneath the horizon. Men and women darted this way and that. Some bore wood for the fire. Others were setting up the various religious artefacts needed for the rituals. Still others with food and wine. The bustle was strangely relaxing. After years of quiet contemplation, a little chaos was welcome.

A few of the other monks passed, dragging a remarkably calm dear behind them. They nodded respectfully. It appeared his position earned him at least a little respect, even here. "Just as well," he thought. "I probably couldn't afford to stay anywhere else." He eyed the creature and the other monks until they vanished inside the temple structure. "Gods, this place is weird." As soon as they disappeared, he gave the grounds one last look before returning to his work. The crowd was small, a few locals, some alcoholics around the Drunken Crane. A few wealthier people dotting the square. "Might actually be able to make enough to eat something other than rice for once."

Masafumi rubbed his jaw as he surveyed his part in the night's festivities. A dozen small rockets stood ready in their stands, fuses coloured to denote burn time, with perhaps twice as many off to the side. He ran his fingers down the length of one of the paper tubes, its fuse banded in red. "Short burn, big flash, three smaller bursts... Start with that to draw their attention and..." The rockets were not entirely as his father had made them, but they would suffice. "They don't have to be perfect; you just need to get a few orders, make enough to eat and buy supplies. Nothing too fancy." The monks were kind, but they could only ever pay for the cost of the fireworks. Never enough to expand or experiment. He eyed the crowd one last time. The young woman who brought in the dear was there, standing next to a young man with a wealthy look about him. Perhaps they would be interested in a few fireworks.

 

[Nellis]

Cedric Jobbard II​

Amongst a host of travelers from the Aradian deserts strode a man of metal plate and mail, adorned with a yellow and green tabard. His sabatons treaded heavy upon the earthen trail, and with each step his coat of mail chimed against the steel plates. His armor showed signs of wear, faint gouges and dents painted with dust, and several busted rings of mail. His tabard was frayed at the bottom, torn by crags and by steel.

He'd been travelling with this traveling band for several months now, crossing various lands and cultures, until finally arriving to the city before him. "Nid yw llygad fy meddwl wedi gwneud ffwl ohonof i, oherwydd yno mae'r pentref lle gorwedd y Craen Meddw." He remarked to himself about the shortness of the region's native, he himself stood six feet on his own, and another two inches granted from his armor.

As he and his companions grew close to the town before them, Jobbard spied lanterns crafted from paper in a myriad of colors, and a handful of floating lanterns dancing in the breeze. He'd have to take some notes for when he returns to Wallia, for the wealth of innovation and knowledge he could find in the Far East.

He saw a mass of farmers pooling into the town from the gatehouse, each of them seeming to carry some manner of harvest or livestock, and one peculiar one leading a deer. Whatever manner of witchcraft or sorcery that was, was holey new to him. Wallia didn't have such use of magics. Perhaps he'd inquire about it. Jobbard passed through the gates without hassle amongst the traders he was with, the guards likely assumed he was some manner of foreign mercenary paid to guard the traders.

After breaking through the threshold of the gateway, Jobbard was quick to dismiss himself from his companions. He gave them a handful of silver coins and exchanged some kind words before bidding his farewell.

Jobbard stood alone and still. While he could speak the language of the land to a degree, understanding the written form was something entirely different. Perhaps there was a kind soul somewhere who could point him in the right direction, but for the time being, aimlessly wandering and asking nearby folk seemed to be the only approach.

 

[SimulatedSimulacrum]

Kenji Kimura​

Strange how different she's like when he sees her up close. He sees a daughter of Tengoku in her yet something is different, her face somehow echoes the features of the blue eyed strangers.

The Samurai's lips turned, showing slight displeasure at her refusal to divulge her secrets. Yet before he asked more, he saw the star shaped crest on her. "Ah, Onmyoji." Kenji lowered his head, bowing lightly at her. To communicate and master the world of the unseen is a type of honor that Kenji truly respects. "It seems that it's destiny that you're here."

Kenji turns to see the same crowd she observed. "The festival bestows everyone happiness, but I have no doubt this city is cursed."

Kenji's eyes watch the variety of people that entered the town. Kenji gives a look of wary and concern to a metallic, armored stranger that stood out like a sore thumb. The festival is loud, but he can hear and see one of the monks approaching him. "Welcome stranger, have you come to pay respect to the God of the Storm?" It's always the monk's plan to approach the western travelers since most of the time, they're packed with so much gold.

Nellis

The Samurai shakes his head. "I don't know if our monks can save us from this threat, Omnyoji. I've heard rumors that some within their ranks smuggle money outside of the temple." Indeed, materialistic monks are not as rare as one might think.

Busaiku, the craftsman, can be seen arguing with one of the monks. Busaiku's words were clear, "I ain't doin this fer free! Ya got yer fireworks, now pay up!" The old, feeble looking monk staring Busaiko down was not intimidating him. Kenji couldn't really make out what the whole argument was about, but it seems the craftsman's payment is missing.

The old monk called out a name, "Masafumi! Tell this man, the gods demand him that this work be done without pay, else he will face their wrath!" Busaiku is not backing down. "I couldn't care less if I'm turning into a toad! You pay me for my work!"

Nuclear Magician

Tensions do get high when the villagers are exhilarated and their restraints come loose. The argument between the monk and the smith happened close to the Drunken Crane, some patrons even came out to see Busaiku's thundering voice. The craftsman is a known swordsmith, his powerful blades that cost less than a sack of rice made him popular.

americanCaeser

Meanwhile, Kenji lifts his head at the sky, gazing at the clouds that shrouded the stars. "Say, Onmyoji, do you think it's crazy what people have been saying behind my back? That Orochi's descendant is hiding somewhere within the Great Mountain and it's going to devour the world?"

Spoiled Bread

 

[Mineczka]

With the waning sun's set, followed by it's crimson glow, the slow veil of the night shrouded over the town of Tengoku, filling the sky was the endless stars above, the eyes of the gods watching over their land akin to a mother's watch over her child. Plaguing the town, were a set of unsavory foes, bandits, thieves, and now, shinobi. Unnoticed of the guards, one had snuck in past them without a single hint of her presence. Those who may have noticed, saw all but a mere shadow out the corner of their eye, while it may raise a small alarm to the single guard, it would be simply be waved off as the poor man simply seeing things that aren't there.

In the meantime, a hooded and masked woman gracefully darted atop the many roofs of the town, while she wasn't here for a target, the Shinobi wanted to ensure her own safety first, especially with the patrons of the nearby watering hole. While the shinobi wore the emblem of the Kumagai clan, it was seldom advised to battle another clan on their own territory, element of surprise or not. Dropping from the roofs into an alley, the woman soon changed attire, changing her appearance from a shinobi of the Kumagai clan, to a simple woman, whose red kimono appeared to bear no clan emblems, while she could undertake jobs of her own, it was best to leave the negotiations to the more skilled members of the clan and it's retainers.

Stepping from an alley, Saori's footsteps remained ever light, a force of habit for her, you never knew who would try something. Walking along the streets, Saori couldn't help but overhear the townsfolk speak of a ritual taking place in town, feeling the mood shifting there, Saori thought it best to blend in there, and watch the ritual. Approaching the town square, there was a small gathering of the commoners, with what appeared to be a samurai of sorts, while he wasn't in full armour, the two swords gave it away easily when paired with how toned he was. He appeared to be speaking with a woman, whose appearance told a different story, she had the look of one from the Empire, yet, looked to be one of the many foreigners that wandered the realm. On her chest, lay a badge Saori knew, she was an Onmyoji, having disguised herself as one before, Saori had a fair idea of what the attire looked like. Then, came another man, wholly appearing akin to the westerners whom came to explore the Empire. His attire was wholly made of steel, it was near impossible to gauge the figure past just a basic assumption that he was of the west.

Slowly approaching, Saori listened to those around her, picking up bits of information here and there, a drunken skirmish from the direction of the crane here, chatter of the bandits there, and, a set of words from the intriguing man to the Onmyoji,

"That Orochi's descendant is hiding somewhere within the Great Mountain and it's going to devour the world?"

It took Saori a moment to gauge what was said, while most mentions of Orochi were mere rumors, did this man actually believe it? Did he honestly believe that the Eight-headed serpent had returned? Though, that would explain the offering to Susanoo, whom had slain Orochi some thousands of years ago. Though if Orochi was in the great mountain, wouldn't the gods simply deal with it now rather than later? Especially with him being where they can deal with him quickly... So many questions, and too few answers. Placing a knuckle on her lips, Saori remained in thought as she joined the crowd for the ceremony, might as well watch, and listen for hopefully some answers to her many questions...

 

[Spoiled Bread]

Emiko

"Descendant of Orochi, hmm." Emiko tilted her head and looked at the samurai curiously. Her eyes had been rather dull and cloudy but when the topic about the curse popped out it displayed a glimpse of enthusiasm.

"I come to this town following a line of rumours in several other places. Some said a tengu cult is at work. Some said Susanoo himself is throwing a tantrum. Another said about a powerful entity summoned by the westerners corrupting the land... Orochi's descendant, is another interesting idea." She slowly raised her hand and the pointed at the direction of The Great Mountain. "One thing that persist in each rumour is that it all originated from the Great Mountain."

"Does it not make you... curious??" Emiko shifted her attention back to the samurai, but this time she had a mischievous grin on her face. As if she's planning to do something that wasn't supposed to be done.

SimulatedSimulacrum