Zoosmell
Blind Idiot Arcana
- Location
- Kansas
But how well would it do against a sworded gun with a Bunraku?
Or a gunded sword with a Bunraku?
Bunraku (Samurai Mecha Quest)
- Thread starter Omicron
- Start date
- Original
But how well would it do against a sworded gun with a Bunraku?
Or a gunded sword with a Bunraku?
NonSequtur
a body
[x]Some aristocratic clothing for courtly appearances.
[x]A naginata worthy of a samurai, with proper decorative work and a katana-grade blade.
be proper noble lady have naginata
[x]Gambling, a vice of the soul. It may put you in debt at times, but it will give you an in with other samurai and put some of them in your debt.
Smoking and Asceticism are booooriiiiiiing, and while I could be argued into Drinking, Gambling getting us into debts is actually really useful on a narrative level - it gives the setting hooks into us.
[x]A naginata worthy of a samurai, with proper decorative work and a katana-grade blade.
be proper noble lady have naginata
[x]Gambling, a vice of the soul. It may put you in debt at times, but it will give you an in with other samurai and put some of them in your debt.
Smoking and Asceticism are booooriiiiiiing, and while I could be argued into Drinking, Gambling getting us into debts is actually really useful on a narrative level - it gives the setting hooks into us.
- Location
- Who Knows
I suppose another reason I liked drinking as our vice is that gambling is kind of eh..? It's one thing to gamble for ourselves but as a vice it's possible to go into cross purposes against our lord and also Yeah....
And it kind of seems like a cheaper comfort cause it's not that associated with negative feelz. I'm assuming that all of the vices include a certain lack of control in relation to Tomoe and would rather not read Gambling as knowing when to take risks because Gamblers in addiction also tend toward knowing there's risk but kind of getting off that possibility and losing themselves in the thrill and vertigo of loss and winning
But also Tomoe has had that flask of sake for a while and I love the image of a prim lady of war sipping her hundredth cup of sake and just in general. Continuation!
And it kind of seems like a cheaper comfort cause it's not that associated with negative feelz. I'm assuming that all of the vices include a certain lack of control in relation to Tomoe and would rather not read Gambling as knowing when to take risks because Gamblers in addiction also tend toward knowing there's risk but kind of getting off that possibility and losing themselves in the thrill and vertigo of loss and winning
But also Tomoe has had that flask of sake for a while and I love the image of a prim lady of war sipping her hundredth cup of sake and just in general. Continuation!
NaanContributor
Provider of delicious flatbread, and nothing else.
- Location
- Hawaii
[X]Dedicate a day to visiting Summer's temples. Meditate, pray, and give thanks for your survival and your new position.
[X]Visit Summer's bunraku workshop to see who is working on Harvest and how. (This takes a full day because it's your baby and you won't be able to not oversee everything and comment on what they should be doing, also because it involves social activities)
[X]Some aristocratic clothing for courtly appearances.
[X]A naginata worthy of a samurai, with proper decorative work and a katana-grade blade.
[X]Drinking, a vice of the spirit. It may shorten your temper and make the morning painful, but it will give you courage and make you a good party companion.
[X]Visit Summer's bunraku workshop to see who is working on Harvest and how. (This takes a full day because it's your baby and you won't be able to not oversee everything and comment on what they should be doing, also because it involves social activities)
[X]Some aristocratic clothing for courtly appearances.
[X]A naginata worthy of a samurai, with proper decorative work and a katana-grade blade.
[X]Drinking, a vice of the spirit. It may shorten your temper and make the morning painful, but it will give you courage and make you a good party companion.
- Location
- Massholistan
[x]Some aristocratic clothing for courtly appearances.
[x]A naginata worthy of a samurai, with proper decorative work and a katana-grade blade.
[x]Gambling, a vice of the soul. It may put you in debt at times, but it will give you an in with other samurai and put some of them in your debt.
[x]A naginata worthy of a samurai, with proper decorative work and a katana-grade blade.
[x]Gambling, a vice of the soul. It may put you in debt at times, but it will give you an in with other samurai and put some of them in your debt.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X]Drinking, a vice of the spirit. It may shorten your temper and make the morning painful, but it will give you courage and make you a good party companion.
Battle is the curse of the drinking samurai.
Battle is the curse of the drinking samurai.
- Location
- The Land of Many Bregrets
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X]Drinking, a vice of the spirit. It may shorten your temper and make the morning painful, but it will give you courage and make you a good party companion.
Yeah, as vices go I'd rather switch for drinking for the social aspect of it.
Yeah, as vices go I'd rather switch for drinking for the social aspect of it.
NaanContributor
Provider of delicious flatbread, and nothing else.
- Location
- Hawaii
I picked drinking because I felt it's more thematically appropriate for our build.
Falling Mountain + Spear = Army Killer -> Drinking
Rising Tide + Sword = Duelist/Champion -> Asceticism
Chasing Star + Bow = Ranger -> Gambling
And a puppeteer stupid enough to smoke wouldn't last long. The thought of piloting one of those already suffocating suits with respiratory problems makes me cringe.
Falling Mountain + Spear = Army Killer -> Drinking
Rising Tide + Sword = Duelist/Champion -> Asceticism
Chasing Star + Bow = Ranger -> Gambling
And a puppeteer stupid enough to smoke wouldn't last long. The thought of piloting one of those already suffocating suits with respiratory problems makes me cringe.
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It's worth noting that "smoking" in the context of Bunraku is different from the modern world. Smoking is seen as a refined hobby, and is done with a long pipe - cigars and cigarettes don't exist. Although a number of samurai are addicted to the pipe, few are compulsive day-long smokers. They generally smoke in the evening, and dedicate up to an hour to it in their own apartments - for some it is akin to a form of meditation. The health issues of smoking are poorly understood, and many are those who ascribe to the hobby some kind of inherent nobility and various elevating properties.
By contrast drinking is pretty much what you'd imagine - it leans more towards modern Japan's business drinking culture than an European form of it, perhaps. Many are the samurai who carry with them a jug of strong alcohol to help them through harsh moment, to celebrate triumphs, or to spill and drink in commemoration of losses. Pretty much all samurai are expected to partake of alcohol when the situation "calls for it," but not all are habitual drinkers.
Gambling is split pretty starkly between games of skill, in which you come with your friends to watch famous shogi or tile players compete and bet on the winner, and games of chance in which you bet on your own victory. It's a very social activity, but its social aspect is more ambivalent and aggressive than with drinking - when you and fellow nobles get drunk you might offend one of them in ways dimly remembered in the morning, but gambling brings debts, resentment and feuds. It can be very profitable if you're lucky, though.
Ascetic samurai often come from a religious background, and take the purity of their body, spirit and soul very seriously. They are often well-liked by the clergy and upheld as moral role models, although they tend to have few friends among other samurai because, frankly, everyone thinks they're dull. That said, this dislike comes with a respect for their dedication, and the most famous of ascetic samurai are often revered as warrior-monks and the subject of tall tales.
By contrast drinking is pretty much what you'd imagine - it leans more towards modern Japan's business drinking culture than an European form of it, perhaps. Many are the samurai who carry with them a jug of strong alcohol to help them through harsh moment, to celebrate triumphs, or to spill and drink in commemoration of losses. Pretty much all samurai are expected to partake of alcohol when the situation "calls for it," but not all are habitual drinkers.
Gambling is split pretty starkly between games of skill, in which you come with your friends to watch famous shogi or tile players compete and bet on the winner, and games of chance in which you bet on your own victory. It's a very social activity, but its social aspect is more ambivalent and aggressive than with drinking - when you and fellow nobles get drunk you might offend one of them in ways dimly remembered in the morning, but gambling brings debts, resentment and feuds. It can be very profitable if you're lucky, though.
Ascetic samurai often come from a religious background, and take the purity of their body, spirit and soul very seriously. They are often well-liked by the clergy and upheld as moral role models, although they tend to have few friends among other samurai because, frankly, everyone thinks they're dull. That said, this dislike comes with a respect for their dedication, and the most famous of ascetic samurai are often revered as warrior-monks and the subject of tall tales.
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- Pronouns
- They/Them
I'd rather have tall tales of that one time we got drunk and wrecked everyone's face on a bender.
NaanContributor
Provider of delicious flatbread, and nothing else.
- Location
- Hawaii
Those are the best kind of tall tales, because not even we know if they're true or not.
[X]Acquire a calligraphy set, and spend a day calming your nerves and mind with the practice of your craft.
[X]Visit Summer's bunraku workshop to see who is working on Harvest and how. (This takes a full day because it's your baby and you won't be able to not oversee everything and comment on what they should be doing, also because it involves social activities)
[X]Some aristocratic clothing for courtly appearances.
[X]A naginata worthy of a samurai, with proper decorative work and a katana-grade blade.
[X]Ascetism, a harsh virtue. Keeping your body and soul pure may require discipline, but it will maintain your balance. And everyone respects an ascetic - even if they rarely like being around them.
[X]Visit Summer's bunraku workshop to see who is working on Harvest and how. (This takes a full day because it's your baby and you won't be able to not oversee everything and comment on what they should be doing, also because it involves social activities)
[X]Some aristocratic clothing for courtly appearances.
[X]A naginata worthy of a samurai, with proper decorative work and a katana-grade blade.
[X]Ascetism, a harsh virtue. Keeping your body and soul pure may require discipline, but it will maintain your balance. And everyone respects an ascetic - even if they rarely like being around them.
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XII. Estampes
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
it turns out that an update structured around managing several player choices that span several days, have to be individually addressed and all convey valuable information makes an update super, super long
sorry
XII. Estampes
1.
You are standing upright, naked from the waist up, staring at yourself in a mirror. A constellation of bruises decorates your body, especially your back and shoulders. In the corner of the dimly-lit room an old woman is crushing herbs inside a mortar, throwing you suspicious glances as if you were about to disturb her office.
"I didn't take that many blows," you muse. "How did I get hurt so badly?"
The woman snorts, pouring some milky fluid into a tin cup.
"You puppeteers don't realize how much your toys strain your body. You've walked for days and days pulling this weight, almost all of it on your arms. A day or two more of this marching, and I'd wager you'd have woken up one morning unable to even get up."
She takes her mortar and digs into it with her hand, slapping some slimy substance on your back; you flinch as your bruises lance through your shoulders, but the old physician does not care and forcefully smears your wounds with her ointment before pushing the tin cup in your hands.
"Drink. You won't be good for much of anything today, but you'll rest just fine. I'll give you half a cup tomorrow, and another the day after."
You smell the dubious liquid - it's not anything you remember being given by physicians in Autumn - but the old woman's scowl makes you shudder and you down the cup in one go. It tastes unpleasant, bitter, and too thick to go down smoothly; you motion to the woman and she gives you a cup of water, although not without another disdainful snort.
2.
You are sitting cross-legged in your sparse apartments across from a man much weathered by time and toil, sunlight streaming from the high window onto the space between you. Ami moves over that space, eyes expressionless but hands fluttering with butterfly grace between the motions of serving tea.
Your head is swimming, your body feels as if it were bobbing back and forth even though you know you are sitting still; the old woman's decoction was more powerful than you had thought, and you regret having scheduled that meeting in advance.
"Two weeks, your majesty," the man says with an apologetic bow. You frown and take your cup - then put it down, fearing that your weak hands might let it drop.
"No sooner?"
"It is the fastest I can arrange. A katana-grade blade will take at least a week to forge, and… I will not bore you with the details of my trade. But two weeks. I guarantee you that the work will be the equal of any other, and far superior to any conscript's weapon," the smith says - and you see his eyes flicker to the sorry spear hanging from your wall.
You nod. The conversation goes on for a little while, touching on matters of culture and craft, of the difference between Autumn and Summer's weaponsmithing traditions, of your acclimatation to the new place, but your mind is working too slowly to make this a pleasant discussion; you soon dismiss the smith.
"The clothes will wait tomorrow," you say looking in Ami's approximate location, "I feel I am going to fall over if I try to stand. Take out the futon again, I need sleep."
3.
Harvest is standing in a broken posture, its face and chest hunched forward like a woman who would have fallen asleep on her feet. Its armor is taken apart, its limbs open, its silken strings hanging out of its body like the guts out of a half-eaten carcass, and seeing it in this state sends a pang of sympathy through you.
It is morning and you have half a cup of sleeping milk in you, but you power through with regal bearing as the short, stout woman near to you chatters on. Her name is Mitsuko, and she is Summer's chief bunraku engineer; her clothes are thick leather, her face is stained with grease, but there is a musician's dexterity to the way her fingers move.
"I don't know what kind of son of an ass made your bunraku, m'jesty, no offense meant, but the chestplate is badly balanced, too much weight on the right, amateur work. I'm surprised you didn't fall over."
"That's on purpose," you said snappishly. This is only the latest comment in a string of disparaging remarks by the absurdly impudent woman. "Harvest has too much give in the left waist as a result of previous battle damage. It was a quicker, simpler fix than replacing the inner frame."
"Ah!" Mitsuko scoffs. "That's because your engineers aren't worth the manure of my mother's cow. No, no, leave her to me and in two weeks you'll have neither the give nor the unbalanced armor."
"Yes, well, I don't have two weeks. It has to be ready in two days' time."
Mitsuko scratches her chin, looking dubious.
"Nah. Two days I can solder the arrow holes in the steel plate, replace the damaged leather and wood, swap out damaged strings and cogs for new ones. Chestplate will look battered as hell, and material fatigue from a week of forced march will leave it with some delay in response in the joints. But it'll work fine. It'll just look a disgrace, it won't be one. But if you survive and come back I'll go over it like a newborn and then we're talking."
You nod, staring at your dismantled giant. The maiden's face looks down at you, an expression of compassion without judgement. You have not been kind to her, have you? But she took you all the way. You make a snap decision.
"I will be back," you say, turning around, and Mitsuko looks at you with surprise.
4.
You are sitting in front of Harvest as several workers crawl over its figure, removing pieces of armor, reconnecting strings, testing the response of its articulations; but it is not they you are looking at.
You set the incense in front of you, two sticks, and between them you put a bowl of rice. You pour small beer onto the beans, and scatter a handful of wheat stalks around the bowl before lighting the sticks. As fragrant smoke fills the air, you clasp your palms together and bow, forehead to the ground, three times.
You pray to the spirit you know lives within Harvest as in all living things. You ask for forgiveness for your harsh treatment of its home. You incite it to quiescence, to calm. You call upon the order of the world, through which spirits are peaceful custodians, and ask it to keep watch over this armor to which you have owed your life time and again.
Mitsuko watches you give reverence, and her face softens. She sees your respect for your armor, and finds perhaps kinship in it.
5.
You sleep peacefully, carried on waves of sleeping milk.
You walk amidst the glory of an endless city of silver and gold, where every star is a diamond in the sky.
You are Aoi Suzume, and the wonders of Heavens are yours for the tasting. You reach above your head and pluck a peach from a tree; it beats like a heart. You taste it, and it is honey.
You raise your eyes and a shadow is cast over you; endless scales coil within your sky.
6.
The clothes are too heavy on your shoulders, the layers too thick on your lungs. You smile and bow and nod, keeping your hands together to hide their slight shaking, the milk adding more drag to your movement. Although what you are wearing might still be called a kimono, it has nothing in common with the common clothes handed to you on your arrival; it is layer upon layer of embroidered silk, floral motifs of red and blue with a golden sash.
The day court ended some time ago, Lord Summer dismissing his gathered nobles, and you are trying to profit from their proximity, trying to connect with them, to talk. But although you can get a few sentences from them nothing sticks, you cannot rope them into anything meaningful; their interests lie elsewhere. You gather names, you get the sense that some respect you and others fear you, but you are treading shallow waters.
Then you hear a loud exclamation, a great belly-laugh, and a bearded man a good foot taller than you steps forward to clasp your shoulder.
"Princess Tomoe! I was wondering when you would appear amongst our lowly lot! Tell me, is it true you slew a hundred men alone?"
You force a smile. A field of red-stained lilies flashes through your mind.
"It's an exaggeration. I killed perhaps… Forty, fifty of them. And I had ashigaru by my side, who probably took a good twenty. All that out of a hundred and fifty."
The man shakes his heavy head, bemused. "Fifty men, still. After a week of march and another battle? No, your majesty, you are a shining representative of what is best about us."
"Us?" you ask.
"Falling Mountain puppeteers! The slayers of armies! The breakers of lines! Oh, the other can boast whatever feat they wish, whatever duels they won, but it is we who bear the load of the army's effort, it is we who seal victory at the end of the day. Do you think a chaser or a Tide could have done what you've done?"
You think on it for a moment. No other frame could have stood firm against the bandit horde in the way you did, nor take this many out of their numbers. But a Chasing Star might have been able to outrun Iron Raven, decapitating the army and routing them early, while a Rising Tide-
"I know that look," the man says with grin, "you're thinking too hard on it. What matters is that you are alive to do that thinking, and you are alive because you - I - we - drive mountains of steel onto the battlefield; majesty, we may never die."
You allow yourself a smile, a real one this time, and bow. "As you say. But I do not believe you've introduced yourself yet, sir-mountain-of-steel."
"Ah, you wound me. It is my foolish pride to think my reputation could have preceded me; for indeed, I am none other than Yoichi Takeda, feared like the gods of death themselves on any field - whether it be the field of battle, the dice table, the rooster pit."
You cock an eyebrow. "Dice table, you say?"
His eyes glimmer mischievously, and again he clasps your shoulder with his hand. You wonder how a man of this stature can even fit inside the hatch of a bunraku.
"Majesty, it would be my pleasure to initiate you to the hidden pleasures of Summer."
7.
Men and women laugh, shout, weep, drink. Smoke fills the air and light streams only through the narrow high windows, leaving the room shrouded in faint, moving shadows that flow between faces, making of them in turn twisted demons and hapless mortals with the turns of chance.
Takeda is sitting by your side, grinning widely, half a dozen cups of sake already inside him. You have abandoned your formal layered kimono, instead wearing a simple grey robe, which is going partly undone at the right shoulder, not that you care at this moment. You've drunk some, yes, but not that much, less than most of those in attendance; you want to be as sharp as you can, you want your face to be as cool and unreadable as a river in winter, but you can't help but smile.
The man in front of you is named Ondo, and he is the most terrible rival you've had in your life. He is short, thin, his whole body wiry muscle, his face a hatchet-blade, his black hair so unruly a few stray locks have escaped his knot. He stares at you with the idle violence of a hungry cat. He raises his hand, in which are held the weapons of your downfall. With one sharp move, he thrusts it forward.
The three dice roll and roll and bounce off the table, and come up at last - one, one, and three. You've won the bet. Instantly you burst out in cheer, all sense of decorum left behind an hour ago. Stiff etiquette and cold formality are for people who aren't putting their lives on the line. Ondo sighs deeply.
"I see the spirits of the castle are kind to the newcomers," he says.
"Yeah, sure, blame it on the kami. As long as you don't forget to pay up when time's due!" you answer with a grin, leaning forward and rubbing two fingers together.
You wish you'd had enough money for these bets to be in kind, but it didn't take you long into the afternoon to realize that you simply didn't have the funds to finance much of this gambling. So you've moved to more abstract concepts; Ondo is a puppeteer, and that last round was over who would fill in for the other the next time a puppeteer was called upon for a day of standing guard at the palace door. The previous round, which you also won, was for drinks; and so Ondo reluctantly summons one of the much-overworked servants moving through the room.
This is a good life, you think as you sip from your next cup. This is what it should feel like to be a princess and a samurai.
"Don't think I'm letting you get away with so little," Ondo says with narrowed eyes. "For my next bet, I suggest-" He freezes mid-sentence, blinks. You frown.
"What's wrong?" you ask.
"Takeda," Ondo says turning to your giant friend, "what time is it."
"Oh," you murmur. "Oh no."
8.
You try your best not to break into an undignified run as you follow Ondo through the corridors of the castle. From the folds of your simple kimono you draw a balm and desperately pat your cheeks with it to hide the flush of alcohol, before trying your best to put your unruly hair back into its proper bun with one hand while rearranging your garments with the other.
You almost, but not quite, burst into the small council room. Eyes rise to meet you, a gallery of curious, dubious or amused stares, but Ondo draws more attention than yourself; he bows and begins a profuse apology for his tardiness, but a motion of the hand cuts him off. A woman, older than yourself with harsh features and wearing a solid black kimono, motions for you to sit. You recognize her from lord Summer's court - she was one of those seating at a favored place before her lord. Immediately you make the connection with the tales of woe and warning from Ondo and Takeda: this is Lady Gozen, the commander of Summer's bunraku. Your direct superior. The other people you do not recognize; they form a half-circle surrounding a low table around which are set maps and handwritten notes.
You sit, and open your mouth - to apologize likewise, or to ask where lord Summer is, perhaps. You do not finish your sentence. Beyond the walls of the room you hear a great rush of wind, the sound and feeling of a terrible mass moving through the air; you see a great shadow through the paper walls, and the ground shakes for a heartbeat. Then there is a sound like flowing water, like whisper and laughter and a wistful sigh, and the feeling of the presence is gone; you hear a door slide, deliberate footsteps, another door slides, and the dragon-lord of Summer is in the room, smiling in his purple kimono. He sits before your small group.
"Tomoe," he says first, "it gives my heart great pleasure to see you among us. I hope you have found the city of Summer every bit as satisfactory as you desired coming here."
"Moreso, my lord," you say with a bow, "your hospitality has mended my wounds more surely than any rest."
"I am pleased to hear it; we must discuss this more at length when we have the time. For now, alas, affairs of war call us all to this table," he sighs. "You must know that as soon as I heard sergeant Shidao's report, I sent out scouts to assess the situation in our borderlands. What I have learned… has not pleased me."
He says no more, but lady Gozen takes this as her cue to speak up.
"The bandits you've faced should be no issue for the forces of Summer, but we cannot afford enough men to easily crush them. Summer is highly dependent on trade through the Pearl River, as well as its production of rice and wheat. We've suffered a number of skirmishes in the south and the east, and this has tied up much of our forces. We can only spare what numbers are absolutely necessary to solve the threats to the north - they are less vital lands, and a less urgent need."
You nod to show your understanding.
"We have, at this moment, three specific situations that must be addressed in the northern borderlands. And," she gives you a slightly bitter look, "as much as it annoys me to give that much input to someone who hasn't proven themselves under our command yet, you came from the north and fought these bandits yourself, so I need your input. With lord Summer's approval, I am going to put together an expedition - two to three bunraku including you, leading a group of samurai and ashigaru."
You take the disparaging comment in stride; it is normal for an officer to be dubious of unproven new recruits being thrust upon them by their superior's whim. You've been in her place before. For all his kind words to you lord Summer does not react to her attitude in any noticeable way, but you feel his eyes watching you.
"The situation, then. Lord Summer's relic, which was intended to bring fertility to the northern warlands, was damaged or corrupted in some way. According to our intelligence, if left unchecked it may eventually degenerate to a critical point - destroying itself, most likely. Although this would be a painful loss, it is not sure that we might repair it in any case. The "Pauper Prince"'s bandits have been dealt a powerful blow, but we should not be complacent. That they gathered over a hundred men and considered this a small enough force that it only needed a single of their supposed seven ronin to lead it indicates they might have forces bordering on an actual army - suppositions corroborated by our scouts' reports of more bandit movement in the hills since your battle. Finally, princess, you were only a vanguard of Autumn's most recent defeat, and its shockwave is spreading to us. A number of deserters from both armies are making their way down to the lawless lands between Autumn and Summer. The soldiers are likely to be absorbed by the bandit lord's armies, increasing his power. The oni… Well, they're oni, unbound by the will of their master, ravaging the countryside. There are human settlements in the warlands, and although they do not fall under Summer's full authority, we need them to maintain continuity of the land and facilitate trade and movement."
As she speaks, lady Gozen moves papers on the table to illustrate her point, bringing up maps and delineating paths, borders, locations with her finger, every gesture sharp and decisive.
"This, then, is our dilemma. I can gather a force to tackle any of these issues with great chances of success, but not spread them on all three at once. We must choose whether to retrieve the relic, to scour the hills for the bandits' hideouts, or to head north into the warlands to take care of the deserters."
She leans forward, looking at you with intense eyes.
"What do you suggest?"
[ ]Retrieve the relic before it is lost forever.
[ ]Scour the hills while the bandits are still reeling from their defeat.
[ ]Stop the deserters before they can join the bandits or destroy the warland settlements.
sorry
XII. Estampes
1.
You are standing upright, naked from the waist up, staring at yourself in a mirror. A constellation of bruises decorates your body, especially your back and shoulders. In the corner of the dimly-lit room an old woman is crushing herbs inside a mortar, throwing you suspicious glances as if you were about to disturb her office.
"I didn't take that many blows," you muse. "How did I get hurt so badly?"
The woman snorts, pouring some milky fluid into a tin cup.
"You puppeteers don't realize how much your toys strain your body. You've walked for days and days pulling this weight, almost all of it on your arms. A day or two more of this marching, and I'd wager you'd have woken up one morning unable to even get up."
She takes her mortar and digs into it with her hand, slapping some slimy substance on your back; you flinch as your bruises lance through your shoulders, but the old physician does not care and forcefully smears your wounds with her ointment before pushing the tin cup in your hands.
"Drink. You won't be good for much of anything today, but you'll rest just fine. I'll give you half a cup tomorrow, and another the day after."
You smell the dubious liquid - it's not anything you remember being given by physicians in Autumn - but the old woman's scowl makes you shudder and you down the cup in one go. It tastes unpleasant, bitter, and too thick to go down smoothly; you motion to the woman and she gives you a cup of water, although not without another disdainful snort.
2.
You are sitting cross-legged in your sparse apartments across from a man much weathered by time and toil, sunlight streaming from the high window onto the space between you. Ami moves over that space, eyes expressionless but hands fluttering with butterfly grace between the motions of serving tea.
Your head is swimming, your body feels as if it were bobbing back and forth even though you know you are sitting still; the old woman's decoction was more powerful than you had thought, and you regret having scheduled that meeting in advance.
"Two weeks, your majesty," the man says with an apologetic bow. You frown and take your cup - then put it down, fearing that your weak hands might let it drop.
"No sooner?"
"It is the fastest I can arrange. A katana-grade blade will take at least a week to forge, and… I will not bore you with the details of my trade. But two weeks. I guarantee you that the work will be the equal of any other, and far superior to any conscript's weapon," the smith says - and you see his eyes flicker to the sorry spear hanging from your wall.
You nod. The conversation goes on for a little while, touching on matters of culture and craft, of the difference between Autumn and Summer's weaponsmithing traditions, of your acclimatation to the new place, but your mind is working too slowly to make this a pleasant discussion; you soon dismiss the smith.
"The clothes will wait tomorrow," you say looking in Ami's approximate location, "I feel I am going to fall over if I try to stand. Take out the futon again, I need sleep."
3.
Harvest is standing in a broken posture, its face and chest hunched forward like a woman who would have fallen asleep on her feet. Its armor is taken apart, its limbs open, its silken strings hanging out of its body like the guts out of a half-eaten carcass, and seeing it in this state sends a pang of sympathy through you.
It is morning and you have half a cup of sleeping milk in you, but you power through with regal bearing as the short, stout woman near to you chatters on. Her name is Mitsuko, and she is Summer's chief bunraku engineer; her clothes are thick leather, her face is stained with grease, but there is a musician's dexterity to the way her fingers move.
"I don't know what kind of son of an ass made your bunraku, m'jesty, no offense meant, but the chestplate is badly balanced, too much weight on the right, amateur work. I'm surprised you didn't fall over."
"That's on purpose," you said snappishly. This is only the latest comment in a string of disparaging remarks by the absurdly impudent woman. "Harvest has too much give in the left waist as a result of previous battle damage. It was a quicker, simpler fix than replacing the inner frame."
"Ah!" Mitsuko scoffs. "That's because your engineers aren't worth the manure of my mother's cow. No, no, leave her to me and in two weeks you'll have neither the give nor the unbalanced armor."
"Yes, well, I don't have two weeks. It has to be ready in two days' time."
Mitsuko scratches her chin, looking dubious.
"Nah. Two days I can solder the arrow holes in the steel plate, replace the damaged leather and wood, swap out damaged strings and cogs for new ones. Chestplate will look battered as hell, and material fatigue from a week of forced march will leave it with some delay in response in the joints. But it'll work fine. It'll just look a disgrace, it won't be one. But if you survive and come back I'll go over it like a newborn and then we're talking."
You nod, staring at your dismantled giant. The maiden's face looks down at you, an expression of compassion without judgement. You have not been kind to her, have you? But she took you all the way. You make a snap decision.
"I will be back," you say, turning around, and Mitsuko looks at you with surprise.
4.
You are sitting in front of Harvest as several workers crawl over its figure, removing pieces of armor, reconnecting strings, testing the response of its articulations; but it is not they you are looking at.
You set the incense in front of you, two sticks, and between them you put a bowl of rice. You pour small beer onto the beans, and scatter a handful of wheat stalks around the bowl before lighting the sticks. As fragrant smoke fills the air, you clasp your palms together and bow, forehead to the ground, three times.
You pray to the spirit you know lives within Harvest as in all living things. You ask for forgiveness for your harsh treatment of its home. You incite it to quiescence, to calm. You call upon the order of the world, through which spirits are peaceful custodians, and ask it to keep watch over this armor to which you have owed your life time and again.
Mitsuko watches you give reverence, and her face softens. She sees your respect for your armor, and finds perhaps kinship in it.
5.
You sleep peacefully, carried on waves of sleeping milk.
You walk amidst the glory of an endless city of silver and gold, where every star is a diamond in the sky.
You are Aoi Suzume, and the wonders of Heavens are yours for the tasting. You reach above your head and pluck a peach from a tree; it beats like a heart. You taste it, and it is honey.
You raise your eyes and a shadow is cast over you; endless scales coil within your sky.
6.
The clothes are too heavy on your shoulders, the layers too thick on your lungs. You smile and bow and nod, keeping your hands together to hide their slight shaking, the milk adding more drag to your movement. Although what you are wearing might still be called a kimono, it has nothing in common with the common clothes handed to you on your arrival; it is layer upon layer of embroidered silk, floral motifs of red and blue with a golden sash.
The day court ended some time ago, Lord Summer dismissing his gathered nobles, and you are trying to profit from their proximity, trying to connect with them, to talk. But although you can get a few sentences from them nothing sticks, you cannot rope them into anything meaningful; their interests lie elsewhere. You gather names, you get the sense that some respect you and others fear you, but you are treading shallow waters.
Then you hear a loud exclamation, a great belly-laugh, and a bearded man a good foot taller than you steps forward to clasp your shoulder.
"Princess Tomoe! I was wondering when you would appear amongst our lowly lot! Tell me, is it true you slew a hundred men alone?"
You force a smile. A field of red-stained lilies flashes through your mind.
"It's an exaggeration. I killed perhaps… Forty, fifty of them. And I had ashigaru by my side, who probably took a good twenty. All that out of a hundred and fifty."
The man shakes his heavy head, bemused. "Fifty men, still. After a week of march and another battle? No, your majesty, you are a shining representative of what is best about us."
"Us?" you ask.
"Falling Mountain puppeteers! The slayers of armies! The breakers of lines! Oh, the other can boast whatever feat they wish, whatever duels they won, but it is we who bear the load of the army's effort, it is we who seal victory at the end of the day. Do you think a chaser or a Tide could have done what you've done?"
You think on it for a moment. No other frame could have stood firm against the bandit horde in the way you did, nor take this many out of their numbers. But a Chasing Star might have been able to outrun Iron Raven, decapitating the army and routing them early, while a Rising Tide-
"I know that look," the man says with grin, "you're thinking too hard on it. What matters is that you are alive to do that thinking, and you are alive because you - I - we - drive mountains of steel onto the battlefield; majesty, we may never die."
You allow yourself a smile, a real one this time, and bow. "As you say. But I do not believe you've introduced yourself yet, sir-mountain-of-steel."
"Ah, you wound me. It is my foolish pride to think my reputation could have preceded me; for indeed, I am none other than Yoichi Takeda, feared like the gods of death themselves on any field - whether it be the field of battle, the dice table, the rooster pit."
You cock an eyebrow. "Dice table, you say?"
His eyes glimmer mischievously, and again he clasps your shoulder with his hand. You wonder how a man of this stature can even fit inside the hatch of a bunraku.
"Majesty, it would be my pleasure to initiate you to the hidden pleasures of Summer."
7.
Men and women laugh, shout, weep, drink. Smoke fills the air and light streams only through the narrow high windows, leaving the room shrouded in faint, moving shadows that flow between faces, making of them in turn twisted demons and hapless mortals with the turns of chance.
Takeda is sitting by your side, grinning widely, half a dozen cups of sake already inside him. You have abandoned your formal layered kimono, instead wearing a simple grey robe, which is going partly undone at the right shoulder, not that you care at this moment. You've drunk some, yes, but not that much, less than most of those in attendance; you want to be as sharp as you can, you want your face to be as cool and unreadable as a river in winter, but you can't help but smile.
The man in front of you is named Ondo, and he is the most terrible rival you've had in your life. He is short, thin, his whole body wiry muscle, his face a hatchet-blade, his black hair so unruly a few stray locks have escaped his knot. He stares at you with the idle violence of a hungry cat. He raises his hand, in which are held the weapons of your downfall. With one sharp move, he thrusts it forward.
The three dice roll and roll and bounce off the table, and come up at last - one, one, and three. You've won the bet. Instantly you burst out in cheer, all sense of decorum left behind an hour ago. Stiff etiquette and cold formality are for people who aren't putting their lives on the line. Ondo sighs deeply.
"I see the spirits of the castle are kind to the newcomers," he says.
"Yeah, sure, blame it on the kami. As long as you don't forget to pay up when time's due!" you answer with a grin, leaning forward and rubbing two fingers together.
You wish you'd had enough money for these bets to be in kind, but it didn't take you long into the afternoon to realize that you simply didn't have the funds to finance much of this gambling. So you've moved to more abstract concepts; Ondo is a puppeteer, and that last round was over who would fill in for the other the next time a puppeteer was called upon for a day of standing guard at the palace door. The previous round, which you also won, was for drinks; and so Ondo reluctantly summons one of the much-overworked servants moving through the room.
This is a good life, you think as you sip from your next cup. This is what it should feel like to be a princess and a samurai.
"Don't think I'm letting you get away with so little," Ondo says with narrowed eyes. "For my next bet, I suggest-" He freezes mid-sentence, blinks. You frown.
"What's wrong?" you ask.
"Takeda," Ondo says turning to your giant friend, "what time is it."
"Oh," you murmur. "Oh no."
8.
You try your best not to break into an undignified run as you follow Ondo through the corridors of the castle. From the folds of your simple kimono you draw a balm and desperately pat your cheeks with it to hide the flush of alcohol, before trying your best to put your unruly hair back into its proper bun with one hand while rearranging your garments with the other.
You almost, but not quite, burst into the small council room. Eyes rise to meet you, a gallery of curious, dubious or amused stares, but Ondo draws more attention than yourself; he bows and begins a profuse apology for his tardiness, but a motion of the hand cuts him off. A woman, older than yourself with harsh features and wearing a solid black kimono, motions for you to sit. You recognize her from lord Summer's court - she was one of those seating at a favored place before her lord. Immediately you make the connection with the tales of woe and warning from Ondo and Takeda: this is Lady Gozen, the commander of Summer's bunraku. Your direct superior. The other people you do not recognize; they form a half-circle surrounding a low table around which are set maps and handwritten notes.
You sit, and open your mouth - to apologize likewise, or to ask where lord Summer is, perhaps. You do not finish your sentence. Beyond the walls of the room you hear a great rush of wind, the sound and feeling of a terrible mass moving through the air; you see a great shadow through the paper walls, and the ground shakes for a heartbeat. Then there is a sound like flowing water, like whisper and laughter and a wistful sigh, and the feeling of the presence is gone; you hear a door slide, deliberate footsteps, another door slides, and the dragon-lord of Summer is in the room, smiling in his purple kimono. He sits before your small group.
"Tomoe," he says first, "it gives my heart great pleasure to see you among us. I hope you have found the city of Summer every bit as satisfactory as you desired coming here."
"Moreso, my lord," you say with a bow, "your hospitality has mended my wounds more surely than any rest."
"I am pleased to hear it; we must discuss this more at length when we have the time. For now, alas, affairs of war call us all to this table," he sighs. "You must know that as soon as I heard sergeant Shidao's report, I sent out scouts to assess the situation in our borderlands. What I have learned… has not pleased me."
He says no more, but lady Gozen takes this as her cue to speak up.
"The bandits you've faced should be no issue for the forces of Summer, but we cannot afford enough men to easily crush them. Summer is highly dependent on trade through the Pearl River, as well as its production of rice and wheat. We've suffered a number of skirmishes in the south and the east, and this has tied up much of our forces. We can only spare what numbers are absolutely necessary to solve the threats to the north - they are less vital lands, and a less urgent need."
You nod to show your understanding.
"We have, at this moment, three specific situations that must be addressed in the northern borderlands. And," she gives you a slightly bitter look, "as much as it annoys me to give that much input to someone who hasn't proven themselves under our command yet, you came from the north and fought these bandits yourself, so I need your input. With lord Summer's approval, I am going to put together an expedition - two to three bunraku including you, leading a group of samurai and ashigaru."
You take the disparaging comment in stride; it is normal for an officer to be dubious of unproven new recruits being thrust upon them by their superior's whim. You've been in her place before. For all his kind words to you lord Summer does not react to her attitude in any noticeable way, but you feel his eyes watching you.
"The situation, then. Lord Summer's relic, which was intended to bring fertility to the northern warlands, was damaged or corrupted in some way. According to our intelligence, if left unchecked it may eventually degenerate to a critical point - destroying itself, most likely. Although this would be a painful loss, it is not sure that we might repair it in any case. The "Pauper Prince"'s bandits have been dealt a powerful blow, but we should not be complacent. That they gathered over a hundred men and considered this a small enough force that it only needed a single of their supposed seven ronin to lead it indicates they might have forces bordering on an actual army - suppositions corroborated by our scouts' reports of more bandit movement in the hills since your battle. Finally, princess, you were only a vanguard of Autumn's most recent defeat, and its shockwave is spreading to us. A number of deserters from both armies are making their way down to the lawless lands between Autumn and Summer. The soldiers are likely to be absorbed by the bandit lord's armies, increasing his power. The oni… Well, they're oni, unbound by the will of their master, ravaging the countryside. There are human settlements in the warlands, and although they do not fall under Summer's full authority, we need them to maintain continuity of the land and facilitate trade and movement."
As she speaks, lady Gozen moves papers on the table to illustrate her point, bringing up maps and delineating paths, borders, locations with her finger, every gesture sharp and decisive.
"This, then, is our dilemma. I can gather a force to tackle any of these issues with great chances of success, but not spread them on all three at once. We must choose whether to retrieve the relic, to scour the hills for the bandits' hideouts, or to head north into the warlands to take care of the deserters."
She leans forward, looking at you with intense eyes.
"What do you suggest?"
[ ]Retrieve the relic before it is lost forever.
[ ]Scour the hills while the bandits are still reeling from their defeat.
[ ]Stop the deserters before they can join the bandits or destroy the warland settlements.
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SirLagginton
Shadow Cabal Caerbannog Bun-Bun
- Location
- Arrrghhh
[X]Retrieve the relic before it is lost forever.
A relic that can produce rich crops and fertile fields is more or less a thing of unspeakable value. Even if the lands of Summer are further scarred by war that relic can ensure that Summer can recover quickly from any sort of damage. Bandits can be defeated in time, but this thing will be lost forever if we leave it to its own devices. Moreover our liege strikes me as the sort to value his artifacts, and successfully recovering it would likely earn us his good graces.
A relic that can produce rich crops and fertile fields is more or less a thing of unspeakable value. Even if the lands of Summer are further scarred by war that relic can ensure that Summer can recover quickly from any sort of damage. Bandits can be defeated in time, but this thing will be lost forever if we leave it to its own devices. Moreover our liege strikes me as the sort to value his artifacts, and successfully recovering it would likely earn us his good graces.
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
don't recruit oni
people have tried it before
it doesn'tend well
(yes, you can recruit the Autumn deserters, possibly)
LinkOnScepter
The One who Strangles Concepts to death
- Location
- Interwebs
[X]Retrieve the relic before it is lost forever
- Location
- va
[X]Retrieve the relic before it is lost forever.
- Location
- St. Petersburg
Ah, physicians. The only people who are more jaded are coroners, and I don't think they have any in Summer.
Our recurring dreams of being in Heaven are a bit troubling. Makes me wonder what else does our trait affect.
Mitsuko's utter lack of tact and propriety is refreshing. That's the kind of people I would like to interact more after our fall.
As for the tasks, the relic and the settlements are two that strike me as most important. The bandits are just one among the long list of enemies. We would do better to look after our own lands, or maintaining trade which is ultimately the same.
I very much like the idea of creating an isolated enclave of Heavens on Earth, with fertile lands and rivers of honey, but I would have to decline in favor of maybe picking up a couple of our old acquaintances. And murderizing oni is always fun.
[x]Stop the deserters before they can join the bandits or destroy the warland settlements.
Our recurring dreams of being in Heaven are a bit troubling. Makes me wonder what else does our trait affect.
Mitsuko's utter lack of tact and propriety is refreshing. That's the kind of people I would like to interact more after our fall.
As for the tasks, the relic and the settlements are two that strike me as most important. The bandits are just one among the long list of enemies. We would do better to look after our own lands, or maintaining trade which is ultimately the same.
I very much like the idea of creating an isolated enclave of Heavens on Earth, with fertile lands and rivers of honey, but I would have to decline in favor of maybe picking up a couple of our old acquaintances. And murderizing oni is always fun.
[x]Stop the deserters before they can join the bandits or destroy the warland settlements.
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cB557
voOOP
[X]Scour the hills while the bandits are still reeling from their defeat.
Fertile fields are great, but you don't need magic to create them. Well, maybe we do, dunno how good agricultural science is in this setting. If we would need magic for that I may have to reassess. But anyway, fertile lands are much less valuable if they're being plagued by bandits. If we go out and recruit the Autumn deserters, we'll still have the Pauper Prince to deal with. An organized enemy force. If we don't recruit the Autumn deserters, many will likely turn to banditry, but they won't be an organized force the way the Pauper Prince is.
Fertile fields are great, but you don't need magic to create them. Well, maybe we do, dunno how good agricultural science is in this setting. If we would need magic for that I may have to reassess. But anyway, fertile lands are much less valuable if they're being plagued by bandits. If we go out and recruit the Autumn deserters, we'll still have the Pauper Prince to deal with. An organized enemy force. If we don't recruit the Autumn deserters, many will likely turn to banditry, but they won't be an organized force the way the Pauper Prince is.
NaanContributor
Provider of delicious flatbread, and nothing else.
- Location
- Hawaii
I am completely torn on what to choose.
From the sound of it, the relic is almost necessary to restore the ruined War lands for use in a realistic timeframe, not to mention being valued by our Lord. But if we don't hit the bandits, we lose our momentum and give them time to consolidate. But going after the deserters would deny the bandits lots of manpower while saving innocent civilians. And as a former Autumn puppeteer, we're in the perfect position to recruit them ourselves, bolstering Summer's anemic army.
Really all of the votes so far have been difficult choices between really good options, so kudos @Omicron.
From the sound of it, the relic is almost necessary to restore the ruined War lands for use in a realistic timeframe, not to mention being valued by our Lord. But if we don't hit the bandits, we lose our momentum and give them time to consolidate. But going after the deserters would deny the bandits lots of manpower while saving innocent civilians. And as a former Autumn puppeteer, we're in the perfect position to recruit them ourselves, bolstering Summer's anemic army.
Really all of the votes so far have been difficult choices between really good options, so kudos @Omicron.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Wait, so gambling won? Huh.