In Black Ink
30th of September 2006 A.D.
As Essence sweeps around you, turning the balmy autumn night into something colder, sharper, clearer you fall into your own shadow ever-whispering and yet in will you are unmoved as a mountain under the starts and the world rises to meet you. A thousand small coincidences sweep all impediment from your path, fate and fortune trembling upon the cusp of the meeting. Is it the dead that move in strange accord, in supplication or is it more? You wonder as you peer ahead at the only other material being in Bachelor's Grove.
Lost 2 Essence and 1 Willpower -> now at 9/12 Essence and 8/9 willpower
The vampire lingers under a linden tree, away from any gravestone, like a shadow made solid in a suit of unrelieved black, high collared save for the single silver thread woven through it, barely seen in the moonlight, a bone mask shrouds their features, not carved Usum tells you, but grown. As you meet the eyes behind the mask something like recognition stirs in your heart.
This is one who has known the touch of Kakur.
Suddenly the messenger as though you had poured a bucket of icy water down their collar and the rigid posture twists: legs splayed apart for balance, arms bent to guard their face and neck, finger hooked into lashing claws.
Shocked your mind turns to defending yourself, but in the depths Usum laughs, a sound all the crueler for being entirely sincere.
Fear has mastered him.
Perhaps to compensate for the demon's reaction you bow a half-inch lower than he suggests. "Hail Heir to the Ten Thousand, may your path rise ever onward as the rivers of desire turn upon their spring at last and the Hundred Clouds are grasped."
As the messenger collects themselves, seeming to force dead muscles back under their control the black eyes behind the bone mask does not touch yours but remains firmly planted in the soil of the graveyard as he returns a much deeper bow. In that posture, that manner you read now not shame, but... bewilderment.
"Rightly did you name this one marked by Emma-O my lady," This time Usum's voice is venom and rage.
"Ware the slaves of the Yama Kings."
Thus you are not surprised when the messenger speaks with trembling voice: "Well met Keeper of the Seed of Night, I bear with me a message of grave weight form the Lady Eiko of the Blood-Stained Chrysanthemum under the Judgement eternal of the Lord of the Night Realm." The words, not quite a threat, not certainly filled with reminders of the might of Kakuri lose something of their gravity when delivered by one who will not meet your eyes.
"How... unexpected. I regret that I cannot return this greeting with my own lips," you reply, resisting the urge to look around for an elder Akuma hiding in the trees. Usum would warn you, of that much you are sure. You have never felt him more awake and aware then he is now like s serpent coiling to strike.
"My lady did not wish to impinge upon the festivities, nor trouble your ancestors with the business she must bring forth."
In other words she send an expendable servant ahead. Part of you wants to read weakness into the gesture, but one does not endure as an elder of the Hungry Dead, twice damned or otherwise, by being incautious.
Instead you pluck the letter from the outstretched hand of the vampire, snap open the black wax seal with the mark of Kakuri and read the even almost obsessively neat script.
To the One by Fate Darkly Blessed
I shall not here make any pretense of friendship, not with honeyed tongue assail thine ears. Your soul is heavy with that which is rightfully of the Night Realm, yet within you it is not merely a tool in the hand. The black seed has become you and you have become it, a fire that burns with the chi of elder days. Thus as delegated by the Will of the Daimyo Of The Dark I offer parley in good faith, that by your insights into that which you have claimed and which has claimed you the debt upon your soul shall be lifted.
Mistake not a light touch for a weak one mortal for is you would spurn the will of darkness it shall devour you and neither Cross nor Sword shall spare thee thine fate. If fortune has given you wisdom alongside power may you find your way to the Ping Tom Boathouse at midnight five days hence.
Lady Eiko of the Blood-Stained Chrysanthemum
Great, not so veiled threats from the servant of a lord of hell, you could have done with waiting a few more months without taking up that Carpenter Family tradition. Ping Tom... you think that is in Chinatown, by the South Branch of the Chicago River.
Why five days though, why give me time to gather allies and information? You look back up at the bone-masked messenger. It is clear that his only purpose was to deliver the letter and return with news of your reaction if allowed to. And it is just as clear your presence had shaken him to his very soul. Maybe you could get some more information out of him, after all the ears of the lowly often hear much more than their careless betters think.
What do you do?
[] Question the vampire (DCs will increase with each question as he recalls less immediate sources of terror; they will be asked in the order voted for)
-[] How long have the servants of Kakuri been in Chicago
-[] Where are they dwelling
-[] What does he know about you/the nature of their mission
-[] What is Lady Eiko like
-[] Write in
[] Use your Crown
-[] On the vampire (Write in)
-[] On the letter (Write in)
[] Write in
OOC: And here we are. Since we are at the end of the month this will be an action for next turn