((OOC: I've been trying to wait on people for this RP, along with the fact I don't think you recognize the significance of a Nezumi unmasking himself - it's like seeing something that your culture does not accept even in the least degree - strewn in front of you. I'm surprised there weren't gasps of horror or threats to kill the Nezumi, but then I'll attribute that from simple inexerience to the world. In any case, I'll try and progress, giving you a moment. Also, Twitch is correct, I select game time and what occurs when, if you had wanted to do that, I would have allowed you, had it occurred after what NEEDS to happen right now.))

[ The Hut - Everyone ]

The old man sat there, considering what was occurring before him, but still giving them a moment to respond. Looking at the Nezumi and knowing the amount of trauma he must have faced, or at least feared, he stood behind him and clasped his hand on his back firmly, his strength surprising for such an old man. Still, his hand gave the Nezumi something as he spoke again.

"This land has gone through better days, and you, little one, will have a bit of luck to go through these hard ones. To see one of your kind, who fear the Rokugani, I know that you have great courage, and your name itself is strong. I can feel it. So I give you something of my name, something that I do, and hold it well within you."

Moving himself close to the Nezumi's sensitive ears, he whispered a slight breath, something which none but the Nezumi could hear, and smiled as he said it, hoping the Nezumi would acknowledge it.

"I am Luang, bearer of luck and gold. Carrier of light. I give to you the luck which my kind have bestowed on many Rokugani, but have never given to a Nezumi. May your people be strengthened by your actions, and may your name ring proud."

"The rest of you are welcome to anything I have, as you can see, it may appear to be quite drab, but I do have something of style, I'd have to, being one of the few of my kind to remain here for any long periods of time."

---

"... if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for Destruction Ice is also great
And would suffice."
- Robert Frost

Kaya watched the Nezumi with a mixture of shock, disbeleif, and though she would never admit it, a little bit of fear. After a moment, she stood and turned to Chiang, and introduced herself, saying "Forgive me. I've been rude, not introducing myself. My name is Kaya Isawa. And you are?",  almost as if she had decided there couldn't possibly be a Nezumi standing there, so she would simply pretend there wasn't one, until someone explained it to her.

---

I swear, now you're just doing it to piss me off.

The nezumi stepped back and gazed at the old man in wide eyed wonder, if it where possible he would have grown a grin that couldn’t be removed for weeks. I was right, this was the source of the Rokugani luck, and I have brought that luck to my people…We can fight back the tide of darkness and rebuild are once great kingdom once more. Realizing that he was just staring he bowed to the man as a sign of respect as the Crab had taught him and chittered this gratitude in the nazumi tongue.

((I seem to remember reading Mantis clan and Nezumi are allies and trade with each other... if so, Chiang wouldn't be 'shock and horror' about seeing one. Not to mention... the Nezumi DID aid in saving his life.))

Chiang smiled at Kaya, chuckling. "No problem... get it all the time, really... I'm Moshi Chiang, of the Mantis Clan... but I'm sure I said that already." He shrugs, grinnig widely. "Pleasure to meet'cha, Kaya Isawa."

(Yes, the tribe known as the Chipped Tooth, they are skilled sailors and perfectly suited for a life out at sea; this is because of how quickly the Nezumi adapt, they where originally normal Nezumi but the Mantis hired them to work on their ships and to the Mantis's amazement the rat men evolved at an incredible rate even growing webbing between their toes to aid in swimming.)

"Er, yes, you probably did, I just missed it." Kaya said, watching the Nezumi uneasily out of the corner out of the corner of her eye, but not outright staring.

---

I swear, now you're just doing it to piss me off.

((Wow I seem to have missed quiet a bit here.  Well I've read everything now and am caught up.))

Shosuro Akro glares at the Nezumi, but quickly covered it up and let his hands back down to hsi side and away from his hidden weapon.  He looked to the others since they were introducing themselves and put on his little facade.  "Hello, I am Diadoji Ataku a samurai from the Crane clan, it is an honor to meet you all."  He said as he bowed to the others, then turning to the old man.  "I thank you for letting us have the honor of resting in your humble abode." 

---

A life, heh who needs one, I got it all here in RPing and video games.

(When she walked back into the room after leaving she was in a little distress so couldnt figure out fully what was going on.)

Now Sha Ya Shi realizes fully what has happened.  She now understands that the person that has shown their true identity is a Nezumi.  With a look of bewilderment she prepares to draw her sword but remembers that this particluar Nezumi has helped her.  In a mess of confussion she starts to open her mouth then stops.  She then turns to the group.  "Not to seem like I am acting hastily but we really must figure out what our next plan is.  It will not be long for the Shadowland beasts realize where we have gone."  She then turns to the owner of the house.  "Not to sound at all ungratful for what you have done for us, but I have sworn a pact with my ancestors that I will avenge all of those who have fallen today that need not.  I would like to end this conflict as soon as we can." 

Once again she turns to the Nezumi but this time actually starts to talk so only he can hear.  "We might be allies in this but thatr does not mean I will befriend you.  If this ends well, we both of us alive, be wary.  I have had bad times with your kind.  This is not a threat, just a minor warning for if you do anything foolish against me or anyone innocent."  She then goes to sit down on the other side of the room.

((My, my.  I have been away for a while, haven't I?))

Kuwata has up till now been simply observing the goings on and learning about his companions, choosing to remain silent and simply follow.  Seeing that one of his companions is a Nezumi, he nearly loses his composure, but swiftly recovers. 

"Although a bear may have great claws and teeth, until it charges it should not be concieved as a danger."  He makes eye contact with the Nezumi and gives a half-smile and nods as if to show approval for his bravery.  Kuwata then nods in gratitude to the old man and goes into a corner to meditate.

 

((My thinking is that a wise and venerable member of the Dragon Clan would be able to look past appearances and understand that his actions are noble))

---

Avatar a product of the amazing webcomic-year one. yearone.spiderspawn.com

((OOC: I have been granted authorization to post my own intro by the he who grants such authorities and stuff.  So here it is.))

 

[The Forest - Earlier that morning]

 

   Sitting perfectly still in a small clearing in the woods, kneels a man. Wearing only loose fitting silk pants, and otherwise naked from the waist up, the man holds perfectly motionless. His hands lay in his lap, palms skyward and the fingers curled slightly in, indicating his state of complete relaxation. He is fit in appearance, but not overly muscular. But most outstanding of all, is that the man’s head and face are devoid of any hair, and seemed to be nothing but a mass of scarred flesh. The clear signs of burn scars are found from the back of his neck to the bridge of his nose. As if, at some point long in his past, his entire head were aflame. Where his eyes once must have been, are now found two shallow gouges, only barely perceptible. The Shugenja who have raised him, and those that have dealt with beasts from the shadow lands, know this overall damage to be the work of an Oni.

 

   Hourou Iji’s mind slowly surfaces after his early morning meditation. Breathing deeply, he slowly exhales with precise control. Thrice more he repeats the process, each time his head rises up a little more, until with the last exhalation his head rises fully erect from his shoulders. Holding this pose for just a moment longer, Iji then rises from his place on the forest floor, to stand straight and erect in place. Stretching his arms to the sky, slowly rotating them behind, then just as slowly bringing them forward, Iji suddenly drops them to his sides with an audible slap of his thighs and lets loose a loud sigh.

 

   “Good morning to you all, honorable guardians and spirits the forest. I thank you for the few hours of peace and meditation you have granted me this morning.”

 

   Nodding his head as if he knew he had been heard, Iji turned suddenly, and strode a few paces to where the rest of his clothes and gear lay. And though he had no sight, he seemed to know exactly where he had left everything. First was his kosode, a light sky blue in color, simply wrapped around him and tied off. Then came his kukuri-bakama, tied tight around his waist, but loose at the ankle to allow for a little movement as he liked it. Pulling his waraji over slightly chilly feet, then wrapping his ankles and lower shins in his deep blue kyahan, Iji stood and took a single stride over to the tree branch where he had hung his motsuke koromo only hours before. It had originally been a deep sapphire blue in color, but had now begun taking on the dusty color of the road itself after only a year of travel, despite the constant washings Iji performed on it. Reaching into his sack that lay against the tree on which he had hung his koromo, Iji withdrew a small folded article, made of silk and colored a deep blood red. Unfolding the material, it showed the from of a dome, perfectly sized for Iji’s head. Placing the silk cap upon his head Iji adjusted it until the small opaque veil, attached to the silk cap, hung over his face down to his nose. This had the effect of covering his damaged face, without muffling his speech for when he needed it. With a final tug at his belt, and ensuring that his wakizashi was firmly seated there, Iji was ready to be off. But before he gathered the rest of his belongings, Iji picked up his walking stick of treated bamboo, and walked away from the clearing.

 

   Allowing his stick hover just above the ground, Iji let it weave back and forth in front of him, almost perfectly fluid like in its motion. After a few minutes, Iji could hear what it was that he sought. After another moment, Iji found himself standing on the bank of a small bubbling brook. Kneeling down next to the brook, Iji lay his guide stick on the ground next to him, and then prostrated himself before the small flow of water running through the forest. After a moment of silent prayer, Iji raised his head enough that he could be heard more easily.

 

   “Oh powerful kami, I thank you for your protection this night, and now beseech you this favor. Grant me the power to continue my mission. Give me yet one more day to gather more knowledge with which to fight the evil and darkness that festers in our lands. In exchange, I give you my service, as I give to all kami who grant me the ability to push the shadow back into the depths from which it was spawned.”

 

   Keeping his head bowed, Iji reached a hand out, and dipped the tips of his fingers into the running water of the brook. At first he felt only the coolness of the water, but then a warmth slowly grew in him. Not a physical heat, but the warmth that one has in the soul, knowing that they have the power to change things in their life. Suddenly, Iji’s mind was filled with images and emotions. Many of the first seemed to indicate a sense of familiarity and acceptance. This kami had heard of his travels, undoubtedly from the numerous other kami that Iji had made contact with. Then the images shifted to those of fire. The emotions changed to fear and anger, and for but only a moment, Iji could feel the pain of his head being alight with flame. Then came the unmistakable image of an Oni, followed by general sense of a direction. Iji saw indiscernible figures scrambling through forest brush, then nothing. Iji nodded as he withdrew his hand from the water.

 

   “I understand, oh honorable kami. I will investigate what has happened beyond your flow. Hopefully, I will survive long enough to make contact with your brethren again. You have my gratitude kami. Both for the power to use this day, but as well as this goal in which to set them against.”

 

   And standing up, Iji gave one final bow, before gathering his guide stick and making his way back to the clearing. Once there he gathered up his sack which contained the rest of his meager belongings. A heavy cloak and blanket, should the weather become unpleasant. A few days worth of food and water, not that Iji truly needed them himself. Pulling out a pair of bronzed armguard bracers, Iji quickly strapped them into place. The words of his master floating through his mind as he did. Simply because one does not notice a threat, does not mean it isn’t there. Once done Iji gathered up his stick, made sure once again that his wakizashi was still firmly in its place, and then set off in the direction that the kami had left impressed upon his mind. Eager to uncover more knowledge with which defeat the evil that caused so much pain to himself and his people.

 

---

"Apparently getting your ass kicked is now part of a complete breakfast." - Roy Greenhilt, Order Of The Stick


- An Answerer of questions, and Questioner of answers.

[ The Hut - Everyone Except Iji ]

The old man, whose nature seemed so pristine and unsettled, his name now in the wind.  It was in that moment, when they were all exposed, that his true nature seemed to pour through, a blazing golden light which blinded all in the room for but a moment, before, instead of an old man standing there, a being enshrined in golden rays, golden rayments covering every inch of his body, robes draping to the floor, a pen in one hand and an incredibly large book in the other, he stood there, before all of them in all of his glory, speaking to them with power that had always been there, but was previously distant.  It was with those words, that the hearts of everyone in the room knew they were in the presence of something beyond them, something of great power which, none of them had ever felt in any other circumstance save one: the only time another of his kind had appeared in recent years, at the coronation of the current Emperor.  If any were alive to remember it.

"I am Luang Lung.  I am a Celestial bearer, who has lived in this land since before the Shadows grew on it.  I knew Rokugan, her skies, her earth, her air, her fire, her water, and the purity of the void.  I knew the spirits, I knew the Kami.  I still do.  Shadows, though they be strong, are not a hindrance to me, and my luck and light has shown upon this land since before the Emperor's had been crowned."

His gaze settled on each and every person in the room, his eye's being a color of purest gold, his hair a pure blonde of no similarity to anything of their world.  And yet, his obvious connection to them and to this place could be felt within the hearstrings of each person.

"You are here for a reason, the Celestial Bureaucracy has called you, for whatever reason.  This land, which has reigned free of the Shadows since Fu Leng's death, has been purer than it has since Rokugani have walked Rokugan.  Yet the minions of Fu Leng know no respect, and fear not the power which I and my brethren have shown, and to our protests, restrained by the laws of order and Bureaucracy which all others follow.  As such, they wish to awaken one of my brethren, whom you must have heard of from tale and rhyme, Ishrafel Lung.  His misdeeds are known to you, his destruction and power beyond that of any Mortal in these lands, and his restraint?  There is none.  He, being contained in this world as punishment for his past transgressions, is not barred from his full power by law and Bureaucracy.  If Fu Leng's minions have their way, they shall awaken him from his Centuries long slumber, and your land will know no peace, ever again.  The land itself shall burn, and with his power, the Minions shall unleash a second coming of their Lord, the Lord of the Shadowlands shall rise from his shallow grave, and reign death and pain upon the Jade Empire."

His face contorted in obvious rage, his power flowing forth through the hut which then seemed to tremble in the presence of such a power, and each and every person in the room was forced to bow their heads or be blinded by the power which he displayed so freely.  Never before had such power been presented to them, power beyond that of a mortal.

"Nezumi, Rokugani; Crane, Scorpion, these mean nothing to me.  You will obey my word, for it is law to you.  Find whatever power you can, and stop the minions of Fu Leng.  Your assemblage here may be enough, but I fear not.  Rokugan shall wage war on itself from the shadowy power of Ishrafel alone, and from that destruction shall Fu Leng be reborn.  Fear it.  You cannot stand against it.  Should Ishrafel rise, Rokugan shall fall.  My kind will not stop it, and the luck which I have bestowed on the favored of the Kami, the favored kind, shall be no more.  And you, young Nezumi, shall have betrayed the name which was given to you, and your weapon.  Honor!  You shall have none if you fail at this, so I leave you with this.  My home is yours, it cannot be found by any of the Shadows, but you shall not see me again.  My revealing myself has brought something upon my head, and I must keep my hands out of the affairs of your kind.  You may see me again, and my gift to you shall be then."

With that, he faded from view, the lights dimming yet the food sitting on the table.  Close examination showed that there was food in every place where one would expect it, water set aside for days, and all of their equipment was now laying by the door, in the greatest condition it had ever been in before.  This was the power of a Lung.

------

[ The Plains - Iji ]

With your attuned mind, Iji, there is great truth that the land has been touched by the darkness, the Shadows.  Fu Leng's hand had touched the beauty of the Crane, and where it had touched there were sure to be scars.  That alone you could tell from the path the Kami gave to you.  Their pain was your pain, and every step into the shattered lands caused an agony of your soul.  This land would die if something did not happen quickly, and it seemed that on the edges of your mind there was a Shadow so great that it would envelope this entire land should it stand.  Burried, it was, in the ruins of something, but the Kami would speak no words in your ear about that place, and fear could be determined from how they spoke of it.  But when they began leading you to the place that called you, called you in the depths of your soul.

Then, it occured, a smaller shadow crept near you, and on the edges of your mind you knew that it would see you, walking as you were through the forest which became plains, and with that, the Kamis became your eyes, their love of you protecting you for a moment as they formed a field about you, the shadow becoming distinct, and your mind determing quickly what they were: a traveling group of Bakemono, lead by an Oni leader, whose corruption erupted about him like an emblazoned dagger, piercing the heart of the land with more pain than you could tell.  There was fear about them; however, as the presence of the Kami so upset their equilibrium.  Their was a tremor in the three Bakemono's stances, and they moved to flee, but the Oni growled at them, and then it, the master in the situation, spoke to you.

"Human!  Slave!  I know you have power!  The Masked One must be your Master!  You are... going the wrong way... do you wish to be lead to where the Masked One is?  We will eagerly guard you..."

Somehow, they had misinterpreted why you were as you were.  Your serenity was power to them, and the power you expressed through your intimate connection with the Kami was something which so frightened them, that proved to them that you were some initiate under the wing of the 'Masked One'.  There was fear in his voice when he spoke those words, and you could clearly tell that he was some being of great power, and without further questioning (which would prove you did not know him) you would not get further with him.

---

"... if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for Destruction Ice is also great
And would suffice."
- Robert Frost

   Iji came to a stop at the loud shout, that did not so much resemble a voice, as it did the sound of giant rocks tumbling over one another in a flood of spittle and bile. Letting the tip of his guide stick slowly come to rest at his feet, Iji slowly turned his head towards the direction that the voice had come from. Sensing how many foes had found him, Iji was somewhat surprised that they had not yet finished tearing him asunder. He had been foolish to allow his mind to wander so far as to miss their approach. Unless they had managed to mask their presence somehow, but that train of thought did not serve any purpose in improving his current situation.

 

   Just as slowly as he had lowered his stick, and turned his head, Iji slowly began turning in place, so as to place his possible opponents directly in front of him. And though his exterior façade showed tremendous calm and tranquility, his inner thoughts, though far from tumultuous, were not as tranquil. The Oni had mentioned a master, the ‘Masked One’. Iji could not immediately call to mind any knowledge of such a creature, but filed the reference away for further study, should he get the opportunity. But definitely the most important piece of information at this time was that this oni appeared to be uncertain in his presence. The fear from the bakemono was almost palpable, as they fought their instincts to run in fear from this stranger, instead staying because of the deeper fear of the consequences of disobedience. This would be the tool that he would use to survive this chance encounter. That and a little of the gifted powers of the kami.

 

   Gesturing as if to fold his arms, Iji withdrew a small copper coin from a pouch sewn into his belt sash. Speaking aloud for the first time, he called out to the Oni that had bellowed at him. “What indication, oh powerful Oni, have I given that I am needing to find the ‘Masked One’? Could I not as easily be setting out to do his bidding? It is widely known that making rash, and sudden decisions, can lead to terrible…misunderstandings.” At the moment he stopped speaking aloud, Iji quickly spoke a soft incantation beneath his breath, in the hopes that the none would hear it after such a loud display immediately before it. As he canted, he turned the copper coin in his hand over, and over, and over. At last he loosed the last syllable, and as if an early morning mist rising from a warm pond, Iji could sense the jumble of consciousnesses that filled the area. The jumble of minds quickly sorting into distinct emotions, and finally into clearer surface thoughts. Glancing up at the oni, as if awaiting a reply, Iji focused in as best he could, so as to hear what it was that the oni would leave unsaid.

 

 

---

"Apparently getting your ass kicked is now part of a complete breakfast." - Roy Greenhilt, Order Of The Stick


- An Answerer of questions, and Questioner of answers.

((OOC - Just so I can file away this, what did you think of my description by trying not to use vision?  Was that ok?  I want to know if I understand how your character views the world))

[ The Plains - Iji ]

As the Kami about you speak with you, you note that the creature appears to have sunken inward, his spirit spilling forth as some sort of form of despair or another.  More possibly, it had succumb to the emotions which had been fighting for dominance within his soul - the fear that this being was a minion of 'The Masked One' and as such would now receieve retribution.

((OOC - Italics will be the creatures thoughts))

"The Masked One gave you orders?  The Shadow creature, do you go to him?  The Masked One told us to direct any patrols to the ruins in the area, where he worked so he could have protection."

"The Masked One will slaughter me!  I have misplaced his minion!  Fu Leng protect me with your spirit!  His power will rip me from crotch to head, and I can't anger him again..."

As he waited for your response, the area about him shifted, as several of the Bakemono erupted in fear which poured through the mists, terrible fear, as they appeared to have felt something which you had not yet felt, that is, until you realized that the small shadows and bile you had felt from this group had masked something far worse, something which had crept into the group, and was now standing beside the Oni, it's menace and rage filling the mists, and seeping through into your own thoughts.

Feast, blood, pain, agony.  Bring about pain.  Mask bring pain.  Mask commands to slaughter those who fled.  This one didn't flee.  This one is powerful, painfully so.  Pain is tool of Master Mask.  Mask tells me where to inflict pain.  Mask must order painbringer as well.  Mask give more orders through painbringer?

"What are Mask-minion's orders?  Kill villagers?  Kill escapers? Command me Mask-minion!"

This one's presence was far more powerful than that of the Oni, yet it seemed that the mind of it had shattered beyond any level of intellect.  A feeling of dread settled in the air, as the Kami themselves backed away from this creature, and a hazy outline of what it was began to show you what it was.  It appeared to have previously been some sort of Oni with blades for arms, but the distortion suffered in the deeper Shadowlands seem to have tainted it far beyond that.  It had spent a long time there, probably as a minion of this Masked One, and as such had lost any semblence of self, becoming deadlier, far more dangerous than it could have been before.  The bladed arms, which previously were dangerous, were now razor sharp, and the feel about them identified them as... it couldn't be... OBSIDIAN!  The Dark stone whose resonation was the direct opposite of Jade, the weapon which inflicted so much pain on the Shadow beasts.  This creature ressonated with power, and it's ability to cloak itself so quickly gave little doubt as to what the Masked One was using it as - an assassin of somesort.

---

"... if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for Destruction Ice is also great
And would suffice."
- Robert Frost

Kaya took a step back, and nearly collapsed into her chair, her face dead white with shock. A Nezumi she could handle... but this... this was too much. She hung her head in her trembling hands. Everything suddenly seemed slightly unreal... as if it were a dream, and she were about to wake up  home, safe, any moment now.

---

I swear, now you're just doing it to piss me off.

Ksoo'ma squeals in surprise, clasping his hands over his eyes he shields himself from the light that burns his already sensitive eyes. His ears perk up and he listens in rapt awe of the events unfolding before him, as the light dies away he moves his paws from his face and looks about the room sniffing curiously.