Sleeping Gods Quest #31

“If you're right – and gods, I hope you're not – then I was nothing more than a tool,” Soma frowns, “Another way of controlling what little information escaped into the wider world.”

She said it herself, you offer sadly, she gave the information in good faith. She thought she might be saving lives – even if it was just a few, compared with a larger attack. You can't fault her for that. You just hope Ra feels the same way – he risked a lot on the basis of the information you gave him, and it might hurt his position if that backfires.

Deal with that, you think bitterly, as it comes. It might be too late to change anything now, but you can't just let this lie. Even if there is the slightest chance of stopping another attack, you've got to do everything you can. The party might just have to wait, you tell Soma, you've got to speak with someone about this.

“I understand,” Soma bows her head slightly, “Business first, right?”

Right, you agree, is she going to be fine on her own?

“Don't worry about me,” Soma shakes her head, “You've got your own problems. I just wish there was more I could do to help with them – my information, I fear, might not be worth a damn any more.” With that sad admission, she pulls up her hood and hides in the pool of deep shadow that it casts. Veiled, she turns and vanishes into the gardens.

Frowning to yourself as you prepare a good explanation – you don't want to call it an excuse, not yet – you hurry back to Ra's office. This time, your sense of direction is dead on, guiding you straight back to his door. He answers your first knock, notices the look in your eye and immediately allows you in.

“It's bad,” he guesses, “Isn't it?”

>My information was bad. The danger might not be in the south-east
>The cult had an agent among the garden staff. There might be more
>No, it's nothing – forget I came
>Other

>My information was bad. The danger might not be in the south-east

>My information was bad. The danger might not be in the south-east
"And if I were the cultists I would have exploited the recent troop movements..."

>>My information was bad. The danger might not be in the south-east
>and I'm sure you already suspect so, but there's probably cult agents in the garden.

>My information was bad. The danger might not be in the south-east
"The Cult leadership apparently knows I have access to a spell let's me gather information. They gave me a baited hook"

You know we can just tell him we had a contact in the cultists that was disillusioned with the Cult, but they caught wise and gave her bad information. I might be better than lying to him.

yeah

Then he'll understand we have just met our contact in the palace. That's not what we want him to do.

Then we tell him that we got her to turn completely after giving her recent info and that she is under our protection. Ra is our friend and trusts our judgement.

He'll try to get his hands on her immediately to pry all available info out of her.

Then he loses our favor which is huge for him. You forget we have the 'You killed the last Emperor' on him. We are taking her to the Temple just like we are taking Tawn. Same idea, different sides.

Best not to tempt him anyway. He can decide to go all covert on us.

Your information was bad, you tell him plainly, the danger might not be in the south-east after all.

Ra absorbs this new information in silence, a finger tapping quickly against his leg as the only testament to the sudden tension. He takes a long moment to answer – never a good sign. “I presume,” he replies softly, “That you don't know where the next attack, if there is one, might come from?”

It could be anywhere, you admit, even the capital itself. If anything, the south-east might be the safest place in the entire land, now that so many soldiers have been moved there. They need to be brought back, you insist, and spread across the land to cover as much ground as possible. The cult won't ignore the weakness elsewhere – you certainly wouldn't.

“It isn't that simple,” Ra shakes his head slowly, “Those men are under Takino's command now, and he won't be easily convinced to give them up. He would obey a direct order, of course – if not, we'd have bigger problems to deal with – but getting the Emperor to give the order might take some time.”

Once again, Takino is getting in your way. He doesn't care about what happens to the rest of the land, you mutter, as long as his own status is secure.

“I fear that may be the case,” Ra answers, “I'll do what I can, of course, to pass the word around. Even with a quick agreement, moving so many troops to new locations won't be easy work.”

You expected as much.

“Is there any other bad news, while we're here?” Ra asks, “I'd rather know now, so we can begin to draw our plans accordingly.”

There might also be cult agents among the garden staff, you offer vaguely, considering the new influx of staff. Were they checked?

[1/2]

“We searched them for weapons,” Ra tilts his head, “And none of them were recorded – under the names they provided, at least – as criminals. One man was a petty thief, actually, but that was considered... a minor offence, considering. Given the lack of warning we were given, I suspect you might be right – all it would take is for the cult to recruit an otherwise upstanding citizen, and they would have eyes and ears within the palace.”

You think back to Soma's revolver, and wonder just how careful this search for weapons had been. Either the young woman had some cunning way of avoiding the search, or someone in the security staff dropped the ball. The thought, then, of a cult infiltrator easing her through the search process sends a shiver down your spine. Tawn's paranoia, however justified, might be rubbing off on you.

“Well, I have two things to tell you,” Ra concludes with a sigh, “First of all, I have no plans to use you as a scapegoat. If the worst should occur, I have no intention of leaving you in the firing line. We'll deal with whatever happens, even if it requires some rather hasty damage control. Second of all...” He pauses here, “Can I ask where this information is coming from?”

This might be trouble. For Soma, if nothing else.

“I know not to pry too closely,” Ra holds up his hands, palms facing you, “Some things are better left secret. I'd rather not risk you burning whatever contacts or spies you might have, either. However... I'm curious. What means do Wanderers use for getting the answers they seek?”

>You're better off not knowing. Trust me
>I have a disillusioned cultist willing to leak certain things. I can't give you their name, however
>A member of the cult, Soma, has recently deserted. She was working in the gardens
>Other

>You're better off not knowing. Trust me
>It's spooky god stuff

>I HAD a disillusioned cultist willing to leak certain things. I can't give you their name, however
"But like I said that well of info dried up when they gave the informant bad info. Last time I talked to the informant I got them to abandon the cult."

>I have a disillusioned cultist willing to leak certain things. I can't give you their name, however
I got a sending from her while I was in the palace.

>You're better off not knowing, more for Tawn's sake than yours.
If even Ra makes a comment that triggers Tawn's paranoia, his mess will just get bigger.

>>I have a disillusioned cultist willing to leak certain things. I can't give you their name, however
But seconding this Ra should know that we don't have a source any longer.

You had a source inside the cult, you tell Ra carefully, and they had been willing to leak certain things to you. It seems, perhaps, that the cult had grown suspicious of them, however – the information they were given, and then gave to you, had been false, designed for misdirection. One way or another, that well has dried up.

“You suspect that they might be in danger,” Ra guesses, “That the cult might seek to punish them – to kill them, most likely.”

That was your worry, you agree, and so you managed to convince them to get out. Last time you heard from them, they were leaving the cult behind. That was recent, as well – you received their last message not long after leaving.

“I see,” Ra muses this over, “And I presume you want to keep them nameless?”

That's right, you nod, for various reasons. Some things, you assure Ra, he's better off not knowing.

“That is so often the way in this line of work,” a faint smile crosses Ra's face, “It's an ugly business. Well, thank you for telling me this, Ira – I appreciate the courtesy. Another man might have chosen to cut his losses and save himself from the consequences of this kind of mistake. A shame that you don't have someone on the inside, any more, but these things can't be helped.”

He's being surprisingly understanding about this entire situation. You're glad, of course, but it's a little unusual. You keep expecting the axe to fall at any minute, for him to reveal the true depths of his frustration.

“And what good would that do?” Ra raises an eyebrow, “We're in this together, you and I, and pushing away one's friends is never a good idea. Still...” Ra glances across at his desk, at the various papers scattered across it, “I find myself with some extra work to attend to. If that's all, we should part company – until the party, of course.”

>Until then. Goodbye Ra
>There was one last thing... (Write in)
>Other

>>Until then. Goodbye Ra
BATH. NOW.

>Until then. Goodbye Ra
Okay. NOW time for that bath.

>Until then. Goodbye Ra

>>Until then. Goodbye Ra
Sometimes I think Ra is a little too good to us. He's got to have his own motives.

Until then, you tell Ra, bowing and saying your goodbyes. Hopefully, he might have some good news for you when you next speak.

“Oh, and Ira?” Ra mentions as you're leaving, “Remember to-”

Bathe, you interrupt testily, you've not forgotten. How could you, when the whole world seems out to remind you about it?

“Just checking,” there is a faint humour in Ra's voice as he turns back to his paperwork, “I like to be certain.”

Grumbling under your breath, letting a long stream of petty complaints flow out of you, you stomp out of the palace and back into the city streets. After the sterile palace corridors and the wild floral explosion of the gardens, the city streets seem like a storm of chaos. People of all types rush back and forth, while a simmering tension hangs over the entire scene like a shroud. It can't just be the aftermath of Kurasu's tribunal – even though there were a great many angry souls in the crowd that night – but you can't think what else might be the cause.

It's only when you're entering a public bathhouse that you learn the reason. Details of Aya's explosive story are starting to creep out, even though the paper itself hasn't hit the streets. Still the stuff of rumour and speculation, you soon hear snippets of the information – information that you already know all too well – whispered everywhere you go. They are fearful whispers, the local tension lifted to a new level by talk of secret cults and hidden killers. When the full story makes its way into the public mind, you think, this is going to look like nothing.

And then, before you can worry too much about it, you're being led into a dimly lit room by a woman wielding a razor. For once, though, you don't have to worry about fighting for your life - the only thing at risk here is your stubble.

[1/2]

I get that as well, but half of it is also how we handle it. We are blunt, but also inquisitive and diplomatic, solving many problems with as little loss as possible. For a spymaster who is crotch deep into political bullshit, we are probably his best bet when it comes to handling things and thus assists us so we can do it better.

I'm still cautious mind you, but as is thats sort of the situation with the majority of the big players. Mentor, seer, the emperor, they all aren't really trustworthy due to their natures.

Aside from the Mentor though, he's been the most directly helpful, and compared to the mentor, more willing to listen and divulge information.

You bathe twice, just to be sure that the smell is gone, and then hit the streets once more. It's amazing, you think as you walk, the difference that a hot bath can make. Your whole body feels loosened up, the muscles eased into something approaching relaxation. You almost feel young, and your cheeks – clean shaven and as smooth as glass – only adds to that impression. It won't last, of course, but you're going to make the most of it while you can.

A shame, you think wryly, that Howa isn't here.

Putting that particular thought aside for now, you dig out Ra's note and peer at the address he gave you. As much as you dislike the idea, you'll need something approaching respectable to wear. You wouldn't be a very good bodyguard if you were thrown out of the party for looking scruffy, after all. Keeping a constant eye on the various signs and sets of directions that you pass, you follow the address to the dark little backstreet that it claims to lead to. True enough, one of the shops has a sign above the door, marked simply with the image of a shirt.

With no explanation needed – apparently, Ra saw to it that you'd be taken care of – you're turned over to the tailor himself. A blank-faced beetle of a man, he scurries around you and takes various measurements, putting his hands on you without a hint of shame or modesty. The whole process leaves you feeling particularly abused, and you're greatly relieved when it's over.

“Come back tomorrow,” he orders, when he is finished, “Early, if you wish. That is suitable, yes?”

Cutting it close, you think, but it works. The party is tomorrow evening, and you'd rather not carry about a suit for the rest of today.

“Then come back tomorrow,” the tailor repeats, practically pushing you out of his shop with a strength that surprises you. Out in the streets once more, you cast a dark glare at the door as it slams shut.

>Rest until tomorrow
>Seek out Aya
>Take a walk for a while
>Other

>>Seek out Aya

>>Take a walk for a while

>Seek out Aya

>Take a walk for a while
get a feel for public opinion

>>Seek out Aya

Could take the scenic route to Aya's to pick up on how the public is.

All these whispers you've been hearing have got you wondering about Aya, about how she might be doing. With that thought in mind, you find yourself returning to the low residential quarter and her office, absurdly self-conscious over your freshly groomed appearance. She's going to have some “smart” comment to make, you're certain of it.

As you head to the office, you allow yourself to roam a little, listening in to the pulse of the city some more. In the low residential quarter, talk seems to centre more around the military than the cult itself. Opinion, you're a little uncomfortable to realise, is split. Some people speak of Sparna and the abuses committed there as if it was a necessity, an act of defence rather than one of provocation. Others talk darkly about resisting military control, of pushing back when they themselves are pushed.

You knew Aya's story would rile people up. You just hope it doesn't lead to more conflict than it might prevent. For the moment, at least, the general mood is one of baseless complaints, not overt rebellion – a small blessing.

The low hum of voices fades away as you enter a deserted stretch of the city, and it takes you a moment to recognise the crumbling ruin before you. As if guided by your Wanderer's instincts, you've returned to the old and broken shrine – one of the few to remain in this godless city. It belonged to a minor historian goddess, you recall, although you had found no trace of her name. As always, the sight of the shrine fills you with a kind of melancholy, tinted with dread – as if it was a sign of things to come. Bowing your head respectfully and offering a murmured prayer, a prayer to a departed goddess, you leave and head on your way.

[1/2]

“Well look at that!” Aya says with a grin as she admires your new look, “Prison must have straightened you out, chief!”

You knew she was going to make a joke. You knew it would happen.

“Come on in, but I don't think I can offer you a seat. Things are a little, uh...” she gestures to the chaos around her, every flat surface covered in stacks of folded paper, “Well, things are happening.”

One gust of wind, you think, would destroy hours of work. Menial work, mostly spent folding sheets of paper together, but work nonetheless. Word has already started to spread, you tell her, you heard people discussing the story as you were coming over.

“Yeah, I guessed that might happen,” Aya shrugs, “Word always gets out. We hired a few extra folk to work the printers – my old man, he actually managed to dig out another machine from somewhere – and they always talk. I don't mind, it'll get people interested. Officially, the paper hits the streets tomorrow.”

Officially, you repeat, and what about unofficially?

“I sent out the draft copies – rough things, you know? - to the distant outposts. It doesn't matter none if the writing isn't perfect, since most people will hear it read aloud. Not everyone knows their letters in that part of the land, right? Anyway, I figured it was more important to get the news out there as quick as possible.” She speaks quickly, with a kind of reckless disregard for her actual words.

Aya's eyes are red, lit from within by some rough stimulant. You've got to wonder when she last slept, or even took a break from working.

“C'mon chief, if I took a break, nothing would get done!” Aya protests, “It's just folding this crap, I don't need to be smart to do it. Anyway, enough about me – what are you looking so polished for?”

>There's a big party tomorrow, and I'm invited
>A surprise for my woman back home
>Never mind that, you need to rest. That's an order
>Other

>There's a big party tomorrow, and I'm invited
>You need to rest Aya.

Show me how to fold these. This is my project as much as it is yours after all. I can get some of the work done while you get some shut eye. I'm pretty much killing time anyways and it's the least I can do.

>>There's a big party tomorrow, and I'm invited
>get some rest Aya

There's a big party tomorrow, you explain, and you managed to get yourself invited.

“No fooling?” Aya raises an eyebrow, “I heard about that. Celebrating Kurasu, that dog, getting promoted, wasn't it?”

You're fairly sure that you were the one who told her about it in the first place, but considering how drunk Aya had been when you told her, you let the issue slide. That's right, you tell her instead, you're going to have to play nice to a bunch of nobility and military types – some of whom probably want to see you dead. Dead, or shamed, which might be considered worse in their twisted view of the world.

“It's fine, you'll be fine. Here, I've been to dozens of parties in my time, I'll give you a little advice,” Aya forces a serious, grave tone as she prepares to drop her bombshell, “Don't strangle anyone.”

You're glad she told you that, you sigh, because you'd been planning on murdering a few random noblemen. Now you'll have to find some other way of keeping yourself amused. Maybe you'll just imagine strangling them, you add, but then someone might ask you why you'd be smiling so much.

“Someone's in a bad mood today,” Aya tries to smile, only for a tremendous yawn to get in the way. As if the act of speaking to you was enough to drain the last of her energy, her eyes seem to grow duller by the second.

She needs to rest, you tell her quietly, she really needs to get some sleep. Even a few hours would be good enough.

“Yeah, I know,” this time, Aya manages a smile, “But...”

You'll fold these for a while, you offer, if she shows you how. It's about time you did some of the grunt work – it's your project as much as it is hers, after all. For a moment, Aya looks indecisive, but then she nods.

“Just think of it as a prayer,” she suggests as she demonstrates folding up a paper, “An offering to the god of paperwork.”

She makes it sound so exciting.

[1/2]

Even after you take over the folding, Aya still hovers over you for a while. In the end, you need to wave her away, practically chasing her upstairs. In her own way, she's just as much of a busy worker as you are – it makes you wonder what kind of personal life Aya has. Has she ever mentioned friends, even a single one? You can't recall, not off the top of your head.

Putting the matter of her private life out of your mind – it is, after all, private – you focus on the menial task of folding newspapers together. It's simple really, but the crisp folds are necessary for keeping the sheets of paper together. As you work, you begin to daydream about a machine that would make this job unnecessary – a little metal pin or clip, one that folds around and bends into shape.

If Sho really wanted to improve the land, you think, he'd be focussing on inventing something like that instead of his stupid train idea.

After what might have been an hour or so, you take a break and work on writing a letter for the Nameless Temple. All too aware that the pigeon post might not be secure, you omit any names or precise details from it. Two people will be arriving soon, you write, and you suggest that they be welcomed and treated with respect. If that isn't possible, they should be kept safe. On a separate sheet of paper, you write a note to Howa, assuring her that you're still alive. The full details, you'd rather give to her in person.

Some more time melts away as you return to folding newspapers, but it isn't long until Aya emerges from upstairs, rubbing her eyes and covering up a yawn. That was almost a few hours, you tell her, you're impressed.

“And you're still here,” Aya squints at you, “I'm impressed.”

>I'll leave, then. I leave this in your capable hands
>You should think about taking more time off. It would do you some good
>Have you thought any more about what I said, about being in danger?
>Other

>You should think about taking more time off. It would do you some good
>Have you thought any more about what I said, about being in danger?

>You should think about taking more time off. It would do you some good
"Turbulent times with stories around every corner I know, but still."

>You should think about taking more time off. It would do you some good
>>Have you thought any more about what I said, about being in danger?

Seriously though, you tell her sternly, she should think about taking some more time off. It would do her some good, and she might actually enjoy doing something that isn't newspaper business for a while. It's a busy time, you add quickly as Aya opens her mouth to answer, you know that. Stories around every corner, and that doesn't look like it's going to change in a hurry. Still, she won't be able to report on anything if she collapses from exhaustion.

“Sure thing chief,” Aya gives you a big, fake grin, “In fact, why don't we go on holiday together? You can get in trouble, just like you always do, and I can write about it, just like...”

Just like she always does, you finish with a disgruntled sigh, you take her point. You're hardly the person to lecture her about taking it easy. Has she, at least, considered what you told her about being in danger? It's a serious matter, after all.

“I've thought a lot about it, yes,” Aya nods gravely, “But I've not changed my mind. I can't drop everything and abandon this place. I mean, you're in danger more often than I am – are you going to settle down and retire?”

Maybe you will, you reply quietly, but not until you've got a safe home to retire into. Until then, you've got a duty to put yourself in danger. Perhaps it's the weight in your voice that convinces Aya, because she can't find a suitably flippant way to reply. Silent for a rare moment, she reaches across and pats you on the shoulder.

“I take your point,” she admits, “But you've got to invite me to your retirement party, okay? I won't take no for an answer!”

Sure, you sigh as you stand, she can cover it in her newspaper. After all, it'll come as news to everyone you know – Ira Furyo survives long enough to retire. Even you might be surprised to read that headline.

“That's a pretty bleak thing to say, chief,” Aya replies after an awkward pause.

Just getting yourself in the party mood, you explain, that's all.

[1/2]

After a night spent at an inn, sleeping fitfully in a bed that probably renders your bathing spree null and void, morning finds you standing in the tailor's shop. The stranger in the mirror almost looks sleek, draped in sombre black cloth cut to perfection. There is only one slight deviation from the precise shape of your body, and that is the jacket. Slightly too large, it unbuttons to reveal a discrete inner pocket. Just as you're asking the tailor what it's for, he hands you a tightly bound package. Inside is an envelope and a folding knife, the blade locked safely away inside the wooden grip.

The knife fits perfectly inside your hidden pocket. Ra thought of everything.

The envelope contains both your invitation – the script so artistic and floral that you can barely read it – and an annotated timetable of events. The annotations are in Ra's neat hand, explaining his plans for the evening. A three part ordeal, the first section of time will be wasted on “mingling” - that's when Ra plans, the note reads, to introduce Sho and Miura. You'll be watching that little meeting like a hawk. The second phase is a meal and a speech, with Kurasu addressing the party. With everyone gathered in one place, you could learn a great deal with the right mix of magic and eavesdropping. Then, another spot of mingling to see out the night, somewhat less formal this time. Ra's notes suggest approaching the Emperor then, once some of the guests have started to leave.

With the timetable and invitation at hand, you've got just to wait out the day – without getting your new suit ripped, stained or otherwise ruined.

>Wait until evening (Skip ahead)
>Find some business to attend to (Write in)
>Other

>Wait until evening (Skip ahead)
Let's do it.

>>Wait until evening (Skip ahead)
Man, I hope we keep this suit.

>Wait until evening (Skip ahead)

>>Wait until evening (Skip ahead)
Taking bets on how long it is before something goes wrong.

10 dollars on near the end of the speech.

You wait the day out in the cleanest, safest place you can find – a rather sterile gallery full of objects that claim to be art – and emerge upon the first sign of the evening's approach. Watching your back with every step you take, you make your way to the palace, a vague feeling of dismay growing within the pit of your stomach. Then again, it might just be hunger – this is the only suit you own, you've ever owned, and you didn't wish to spill stewed fish down it mere hours before the party.

At least if someone shot you, you'd have a good excuse not to attend. Stewed fish is not an excuse.

Ra, mercifully, is waiting at the palace gates, shaking hands with the various arriving guests. The grim look on his face that surfaces whenever their attention passes away from him tells you exactly how much he's enjoying himself. Turning over your invitation to the finely garbed soldiers – only the best and brightest thugs this evening, apparently – you move to shake Ra's hand.

“Glad to see you, Ira,” he says, before dropping his voice a degree lower, “I saw Kurasu earlier. I think he actually wants to be here less than you do. Watch out for him – he'd welcome the excuse to cause trouble.”

You'll keep that in mind, you promise, but if he's that determined to start a fight...

“I know, I know,” Ra shakes his head in disgust, “This whole evening is going to be a disaster. I can feel it in my bones. Go on ahead – in either case, we can't talk now. Later, I hope.”

Later, you repeat. As you're leaving, guided towards the gardens by one of the toy soldiers, you hear Ra gregariously welcoming some new parasite. Somewhere along the way, a glass of good wine finds its way into your hand.

It isn't all bad, then.

[1/2]

We should probably do the testing the web thing before they eat in case we ping 'planning to assassinate sho' on multiple military officials.

It might be better in the middle of the speech. Everyone is gathered together and the unease they might feel will probably just a reaction to a boring speech to them. Sides it can't be traced back to us.

yes but I was thinking in the 'oh no, some assassins from the cult poisoned our emperor's food and/or drink!' sort of way. Might be a good idea to be ready just in case.

By evening's light, bolstered by paper lanterns, the gardens manage to be more beautiful than you ever expected. By day, the riot of flowers was a gaudy sight, but the lingering gloom takes the edge off and mutes them down to a more pleasing level. Adjusting your suit jacket slightly – you can't help but imagine the knife's deadly weight pulling it down, deforming the cloth – you move forwards into the crowd and search for a familiar face.

You find one, but it isn't a face you wanted to see again. Takino – robed and stern - holds court over a group of fawning guests, their purpose utterly unknowable. Not military, that much is obvious from their loose nature, but you can't tell anything else about them. Perhaps the children of other nobles, those who deserve their titles. They do look young, after all, but most people do to your jaded eye. Thankfully escaping Takino's eye – this time, at least – you move on.

A flash of white, perhaps the robes of a priestess of Selene, catches your eye but vanishes into the crowd before you can see if it was Ishida or not. You're about to follow it when a deep voice addresses you from behind.

“Greetings,” the voice rumbles, like a mountain collapsing in slow motion, “Forgive me, but I don't think I recognise you.”

Turning, you find yourself confronted by the largest man you've ever seen. You're a tall man, but this brute is easily a head taller than you. There's nothing soft about him, as if his entire body was chipped out of rock. No, more like as if it was forged from steel – as any good weapon should be.

[2/3]

You have no idea who this man is, and you get the impression that he prefers it that way. Loathing the fact that you have to look up to meet his eyes, you give your name in the vain hope that he will return the favour.

“Ira Furyo,” the giant repeats, “I know the name, but I don't know why you'd be here. Care to enlighten me, while we're getting to know each other?”

You consider pointing out that you're yet to even know his name, but that might very well be the kind of bluntness that causes problems – and it's too early in the evening to start causing problems. So, placing a formal smile across the unfeeling mask of your face, you give the best reason you can think of for your presence.

>I have friends in high places
>Services to the military
>I'm here representing a higher authority
>Other

>Services to the military. And you?

>Services to the military
Defusing the Dumas incident. Also we are nobility.

>>Services to the military

>Services to the military
That netted us
>Friends in high places

Services to the military, you answer vaguely, but what about him?

It's as good a reason as any, you figure, and it's even close to the truth. There's no denying that you've helped the military in many ways – from the siege of Dumas to weeding out the traitor Musari. It may be true that you're here on other grounds, but it was that first bit of cooperation that brought you to Ra's attention, as well as presenting you before the Emperor. So, you feel reasonably safe in your answer.

Which makes it all the more worrying when the giant laughs, booming out a deep chuckle that draws many staring eyes. They look away just as quickly as they look around, which only makes things worse. Only the thought that it was a friendly laugh – as friendly as anything that brute might come out with could be, at least – keeps you from sinking into despair.

“Then we are in the same boat,” the large man declares, “For it is my service to the military that I can thank for bringing me here. Greetings, Ira – I am Tore Hirohito.”

You open your mouth to say something, and very quickly close it again when you realise that you were about to say something very stupid. Hirohito – you've heard the name before. He's just about the highest military authority in Tenngaru, the commander of the capital garrison. Together with the Emperor, he might just be the most influential – and dangerous – person in the entire land.

You're so very glad you didn't give him a sarcastic answer.

“Yes, I remember now,” Hirohito continues, apparently oblivious – although you doubt the reality of that – to your fumbling moment, “You assisted the military on Dumas, that's what won you that title, wasn't it?”

You were able to resolve the incident peacefully, you croak, and the island returned to the Emperor's control without loss of life.

[1/2]

If I'm guessing right about how this story is going, this dude might be our biggest enemy in the future.

He's so final bossy it's ridiculous

“It's not what a lot of people would have done,” Hirohito glances across at Takino, the gesture subtle but undeniably meaningful, “But I have to commend your skills in diplomacy. The Emperor's servants, from the highest noble to the lowest farmer, are not tools to be thrown away for no good reason.”

That's what you've always believed, you begin to say, there's no point in-

“They should be thrown away for a good reason!” Hirohito booms out another laugh, “Come now, don't look so dour – we're both soldiers, in our own way. Victory can only be achieved through sacrifice, but noble men like us must know what to sacrifice, and when.”

Privately, you've got to admit that he has a point. In war, a certain amount of losses are inevitable – the duty of a commanding officer is to reduce those losses as much as possible, while making their sacrifice worthwhile. The military could stand to learn that lesson, you consider, and learn it well. Not that the cult is any different, in that regard.

“Quiet one, aren't you?” Hirohito growls, a faint smile touching his lips, “Odd – I've heard you can be quite vocal, especially within the palace.”

Dumas won you some friends, you answer carefully, as well as a title. You know which of the two that you value more.

“Very good,” Hirohito nods gravely, “A man must always know where best to put his values – a man of principle, at least. Well, I'm afraid I can't linger, there are a great many people to greet.” Hirohito actually bows slightly, a slight dip of his head that you manage to return. “Perhaps we'll speak again, before the night is out,” he adds, before vanishing into the party.

Well... you're still alive.

>Seek out Ishida, if possible
>Mingle for a while longer, see who shows up
>Take some other course of action (Write in)

>Mingle for a while longer, see who shows up

>Mingle for a while longer, see who shows up
>Wash down the scare with a drink.

>>Mingle for a while longer, see who shows up
Information is going to be important. Hirohit does seem damn intimidating, but looks have deceived us before. Likewise, while he is leader of the capital soldiers, that just puts him in more danger along with Sho.

In either case, we need to be cautious. Our most dangerous foes have never been strong looking but rather manipulative bastards who bait and trick us.

Pretty sure Hirohito is a pretty good manipulative bastard, but you're right. He won't be the one to try anything here

Finding your throat suddenly dry, you throw back the last of your glass of wine, and politeness be damned. Let the snooty parasites talk behind your back, you'd like to see them calmly brush off the conversation you've just had without a stiff drink. Even so, the wine barely hits the spot. The image of Ra's decanter, heavy and delightful with whisky, surfaces in your mind as you swap your empty glass for a full one, a passing servant helping the transaction along nicely.

As if your thoughts summoned him, you spot Ra moving through the crowd with a kind of controlled desperation, flashing smiles to various nobles and shaking every hand that is offered his way. He looks like a man just barely clinging on in the midst of a crisis, a sentiment that you can well sympathise with.

“Ira, good,” he says as he reaches you, “There may be a problem.”

Unconsciously, you reach up to touch the knife in your suit pocket. What kind of problem, you ask, is it something you can help with?

“Not unless you're a very fast runner,” Ra gives you a pained smile, “Matsuhiro was supposed to send a message, his blessing for Kurasu's promotion, but nothing has arrived yet. As matters of protocol go, this could be a disaster. It suggests a certain... disrespect, as if Kurasu wasn't worth the time.”

Okay, you reply slowly, staying calm is the first part. The second part, you add, is explaining how Kurasu's feelings are your problem.

[1/2]

>As matters of protocol go, this could be a disaster.
I bet it's already a disaster in another sense.

Ra actually laughs at that, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “It isn't, not really,” he shakes his head, “But I felt the urge to speak to someone about it, and you were the first person I thought of. I'm glad I did.” As he takes a deep, calming breath, a sly look crosses Ra's face. “You know, I really shouldn't say this, but...” a grin, now, as quick and brilliant as lightning, “If you were looking for a way to needle Kurasu...”

First he urges you to stay out of trouble, and now he's giving you this golden opportunity? You're getting some mixed messages here.

“Yes, well,” Ra clears his throat, rubbing his arm. A scar lurks there, you recall, a scar gained by duelling Kurasu. “Perhaps Kurasu deserves a little trouble. I wouldn't blame you for passing the chance up, though – I think I was able to get confirmation on a certain rumour I mentioned.”

He keeps a pet duellist, you ask, to fight people for him?

“Correct. A young lad, and very skilled,” Ra looks away from you suddenly, scanning the crowd for some reason, “Maes, I believe his name is, but I don't have a family name. No matter – with all luck, we won't ever need to meet him. Ah, forgive me – I believe Miura has arrived now.”

Flashing you another quick smile, a grateful expression of thanks, Ra turns and hurries off. A few moments later, the crowd parts to reveal them. Miura is a sight to behold, her traditional dress only serving to exaggerate her delicate frame, conveying the impression of fragility. You sense her mother's hand in that, grooming the girl for maximum effect.

Behind Miura, Ishida is the perfect bodyguard – discrete, barely noticeable, but projecting an aura of menace. She's good, you think to yourself, damn good.

Then the crowd closes in once more, and the pair become two more faces in the crowd.

>Follow them at a distance
>Try to speak with Ishida
>Search out someone else... (Write in)
>Other

>>Follow them at a distance

>Follow them at a distance
Assassins are best spotted from aside.

>>Follow them at a distance

>Follow them at a distance

It's not difficult to track their progress through the ebb and flow of the crowd. For one thing, Ishida is uncommonly tall, and the surging tide of nobility are only too happy to give her – and her young charge - some breathing room. Her role as a bodyguard coming into play, although it also makes her a very tempting target.

With that in mind, you become a guard to the pair of them, tracing their steps as they move forwards. It's odd, but they never stop for long or show any interest in interacting with the rest of the guests. As far as the pair of priestesses are concerned, the various nobles might as well be mere obstacles, to be avoided or politely dealt with. A few of the younger men approach, their sights clearly set on Miura, but they never quite make it to her side – a stern look from Ishida always kills their progress.

You actually feel a little sorry for Sho, if he's going to be herded into her path.

The pair are definitely headed somewhere, moving through towards the back of the gardens. Not too far from where you spoke with Soma, you realise with a faint humour. As you're glancing about to see if the place has been cleaned up at all – is has, of course – you take your eyes away from Ishida for a second.

When you look back, she has vanished. Miura stands alone in that small clearing, shivering slightly as the heat – gathered from the mass of bodies they had passed through – leaves her body. She looks vulnerable, alone like that – the perfect target. Before you can step forwards, however, a firm hand closes around your sleeve. Turning, you spot Ishida, some cunning magic allowing her to appear behind you.

Neat trick, you murmur, you'll have to learn how to do that one day.

With a faint smile touching her eyes, Ishida presses a finger to her lips and hushes you, pulling you back and away from sight.

[1/2]

Carefully, you warn her, you're spoken for.

“You're a fool,” the priestess shoots back, “A fool who's watching our backs, I presume?”

That's right, you tell her, that's what you were supposed to be doing at least.

“I appreciate it. I appreciate the subtlety,” Ishida glances around at you, “You didn't rush over to shake my hand or anything. That could have caused problems, making us look... over-familiar. This is fine – we should be hidden, here.”

Hidden, you start to ask, from what? Then you see Ra leading Sho – a faintly petulant look spread across the boy's face – into the clearing. Of course – the two young teenagers finally having their first meeting, one in a nice secluded location. It leaves you feeling like a voyeur, the realisation that you're going to hide here and spy on them.

“Leave, then,” Ishida murmurs, “My job is to keep Miura safe, even if it means never letting her out of my sight. Still... having you here might help, a second pair of eyes is always useful.” An awkward pause, then, as Ishida winces slightly. “Uh,” she mumbles, “I didn't mean...”

It's fine, you sigh as you touch your eyepatch, you're used to it by now. With that essentially killing any hope of comfortable small talk, you return your eye to the pair of kids. Ra has discretely left, returning to his duties, but you suspect that he won't be far away. As you watch, Sho eagerly holds out his hand for Miura to shake, a gesture that strikes you as vaguely inappropriate – like a greeting between two young men, not an Emperor and a priestess. Too informal, you think.

“He's a worm,” Ishida murmurs, “He doesn't even deserve to touch her hand.”

Unexpectedly bitter. Looking back to the couple, you realise that you can't hear what they're saying, even though your view is perfect. You might be able to listen in, if you got a little closer...

>Sneak closer, indulge your curiosity
>Hang back, stay professional
>Other

>Hang back, stay professional

>Hang back, stay professional
Where's the Super hearing spell card Mentor? Come on now.

>Hang back, stay professional

>“He's a worm,” Ishida murmurs, “He doesn't even deserve to touch her hand.”
Shh, it's not everyday you see an emperor spill spaghetti, this is certainly is first batch as well, such a thing needs to be savoured

Isn't he supposed to be wise? He should of known we would want to eavesdrop on a couple of awkward teenagers in the near future. Geeez.

..I am now picturing a spell card that turns thoughts and emotions into food and Ira is enjoying the hell out of Sho's mental spaghetti.

>Sho right now

Watching the pair of them is bad enough, you think, without creeping a little closer to listen in on this supposedly private moment. Hanging back like this, you can at least indulge in the veneer of professionalism. Besides, you tell yourself, sneaking closer would only increase the chances of you getting caught – and that couldn't end well. Ishida has an excuse, you don't – officially, you're just another guest. So, you're only too happy to linger in the background.

Even if you are kind of curious to see what they end up talking about.

As it happens, watching is amusing enough. Sho's gestures only grow more and more animated as the conversation drags itself out, while Miura simply gives him a variety of patient smiles and laughs politely to whatever no doubt terrible jokes he tries to tell. You're certain that she even takes a step away from him at one point, although she might just be shuffling her feet against the chill of the night.

“Gods...” Ishida murmurs, “He's an idiot.”

This time, you're the one to hush her. You're starting to enjoy this, on a kind of base and sadistic level. Just by watching, you can track Sho's confidence as it undergoes a complete decimation, his exaggerated gestures slowly running out of steam and leaving him limp, shoulders slumped. Defeated, brought low at last.

Oh yes. You're enjoying this far too much.

Then something changes. Sho reaches down into the pocket of his outfit – a kind of absurd imitation of a military uniform, with all the nonsense rank pins crafted from Imperial jade – and gives Miura something. Thrusts it out at her, actually, and almost strikes her in the chest with it. That near miss causes Ishida to freeze, as if she had to stop herself from leaping across and punching the Emperor himself in the mouth.

[1/2]

With his gift rammed into Miura's limp, unresponsive hands, Sho turns and hurries away, his cheeks burning bright enough to light up the night. Slinking deeper into the cover Ishida had found for you, you allow the boy to charge past you. The stealthy approach was pointless – Sho wouldn't have noticed you even if you'd stuck out a foot to trip him over. He would have blamed it on his own feet, probably.

Miura lingers a while longer, looking down into the cradle of her hands. You can't see a thing from here, and her cautious expression offers no clue as to what she was given. It didn't look like a letter, from what little you saw of it – that would have been folded, this looked rigid – but you're not sure what else it could have been. Either you'll find out, you decide, or you won't.

“He's a worm,” Ishida repeats, looking a little more relaxed now that Miura is alone, “A little troublemaker, that's what he is.”

He's the Emperor, you point out, she should be more careful with her words.

“I'm a very honest person,” Ishida tells you, an undercurrent of bland humour in her flat voice, “I can't help it.”

Of course. Being a priestess of Selene tends to have that effect. Now that the intimate moment has passed, you feel a little more comfortable speaking with the bodyguard – the spy, to name her honestly. You can talk without fear of getting distracted.

>So, how are things in Garuna?
>I heard a story once, about a prophecy Selene gave Sho. Have you ever heard of it?
>Do you have something against the Emperor?
>I should get back to the party. Keep up the good work, Ishida
>Other

>So, how are things in Garuna?
"Any luck on the catacombs angle?"
>I heard a story once, about a prophecy Selene gave Sho. Have you ever heard of it?

>He's the Emperor, you point out, she should be more careful with her words.
It's ironic when Ira has to give that kind of advice.

>I heard a story once, about a prophecy Selene gave Sho. Have you ever heard of it?
>Do you have something against the Emperor?

>So, how are things in Garuna?
>I heard a story once, about a prophecy Selene gave Sho. Have you ever heard of it?