It does seem like she overextended, running three tournaments at the same time, none of which she has any expertise in:
-Combat - This looks like it just needed more engagement to herd them and keep the format structured...also most of the best are already with Zhuan Kun, who as we've seen favors a format of basically everyone taking turns getting trashed, which was pretty much what she got?
-Refining - I don't think she actually realizes how much work the crafter Elder gives them? She got scrubs because the career refiners literally don't have time for a tournament they got like 2 AP spare a week, and the rest are either eccentrics that don't gel with the work format, or else actually too unskilled to make it in.
-Crafting - She wasn't actually involved enough to see that Kong Zhi was judging it as an art competition. Just swooped in at the end to declare a winner. There ARE actually more mass-production crafters here, but none of them will be at the tournament. They're being worked to the bone by their Elder! The only one not in is relatively slipshod!
You know who probably knows a TON about cultivation and appears entirely willing to share?
Zhuan.
We should ask him to expound on what drawbacks and flaws he had been cautioned to avoid on our next travel section. It's likely to take a bit longer from here out, since we will be traveling with a seated official.
(a) Zhuan Kun needs a caretaker to look after his social and economic affairs so that he can focus on becoming ever beefier and swoler. Kong Zhi is literally a "Caretaker" and therefore clearly the perfect match for Zhuan Kun.
(b) Kong Zhi needs resources (money, Techniques, Natural Treasures and other sources of Anam) to fuel his cultivation and crafting, as well as connections to nobility to please his parents and shield him from the wrath of Geng and Mo. Zhuan Kun can fulfill literally every need of Kong Zhi. With access to Zhuan Kun's purse, Kong Zhi can spend as much money per day as he has in the entire quest to date and Zhuan Kun would barely even notice or care.
The whole premise of roping KZ in with some vague promise of a favor and entrusting the running of the tournament to us, then pulling the rug from under us by choosing the winner for us and reneging on said favor when we don't comply doesn't build trust at all.
She wanted someone she could control not trust. It's rather bad judgement of her to think KZ would just be a lackey to her.
I think she just saw us as a resource to give some prestige to her tournament. Then created the situation to either be able to forgo our reward or prop up some her political cronies.
Scheduled vote count started by Vesvius on Mar 20, 2022 at 1:06 AM, finished with 136 posts and 82 votes.
[X] You become more accustomed to the ebbs and flows of anam and can handle the unexpected with far greater ease. (Natural 1s no longer subtract successes from cycling checks. Requires Knowledge (Cultivation) 8 to integrate into your breathing technique.)
[X] You learn to get a better sense of ambient anam and can draw it into your body. (Kong Zhi can cycle anam without a Natural Wonder at an 70% penalty. Requires Cycling 12 to integrate into your breathing technique.)
[X] You learn to better utilize trapped anam and can draw from it as you would like. (Kong Zhi can cycle anam from materials as if they were Natural Wonders. Each point drawn from the material weakens it a corresponding amount, and the material is destroyed when it's score reaches 0.)
[X] You become far more skilled at dealing with aspects of anam that you have incorporated into your very being. (Every point of anam that Kong Zhi cycles with an aspect he has integrated is multiplied by 1.2)
You frown down at the spirit as you follow through with the strike. You felt a faint tug on your core with that blow. It wasn't a great deal of power, but it was enough for you to notice. What's more, you didn't make it happen.
Chui Dao drew from your power without your aid. [..] When Chui Dao is used in combat, he increases the number of dice Kong Zhi rolls for any martial technique by 25%. Furthermore, Kong Zhi can spend 1 anam to drain 1 point of hardness from anything struck by Chui Dao in addition to his normal attack. More effects may be revealed with further experimentation
So something that I didn't consider before is that CD is at the beginning of its cultivation, and if we manage to help it reach the Kukuni equivalent of Soldier it can likely provide it's own anam instead of using Zhi's or give additional effects I suppose.
Also its Moment is somehow tied to armories/smithies and its gonna see a lot of it soon, so that might be progress for its cultivation as well.
As an excuse to rereading the quest, I composed a list of all the charms Kong Zhi made, including those we no longer own. There might be some mistakes due to math and evolving mechanics. Hopefully, it will be useful for some of you as well.
Final BT: 11
DD? NO
Kept ? YES This set of bejeweled bone rings is your first finished product as a charm crafter. They draw the power of earth anam to allow you to withstand more that you otherwise could. Once per day, you may store a full box of Mental or Physical stress within this charm, freeing it and allowing you to continue on as if you were undamaged. However, before using this charm again, it will have to be emptied. When the rings are emptied, or when twenty four hours have elapsed from first storage (whichever comes first) you receive the stored stress as fresh damage. This new stress cannot be stored in this charm again.
A Pond, Reflected (Rod)
Archer Charm 1 (Light 9, Water 3)
Trigger Cost: 2 Anam
Charging Cost: N/A
Maintenance Cost: N/A
Materials:
The Natural Glass (Light 3), +1 bronze TALENT
The Beetle Husks (Light 4), +1 bronze TALENT
The Whale Teeth (Water 3), +3 bronze TALENT
+1 bronze TALENT, refinement
Sold to Jai Shouxi FOR the Clockmaker's Rest (Time pill Grade 2)
The Charm allows the Artist to fire bolts of light from the charm at his opponent, causing heavy damage. Alternatively, the charm can be reversed, and can be used to shield the Artist instead with plumes of water. If the charm is used in this fashion, it is treated as a Defender Charm.
Sold to Xu Yun FOR (4 + 13 +11 +16+11) = 55 SECT POINTS
This Charm projects anam in the form of hardened armor in a place of the user's choosing. This counts as a 15d10s8 Defender Technique. Furthermore, the turn it is used and the turn following, it grants the user Hardness 3.
Final BT: 36
DD? YES
Kept: NO
Sold to Kra Naoi of the Ancient Thunder school FOR 10 SILVER TALENTS and SIX BRONZE TALENTS, after auction house's fee of 25%, EARNED 7 Silver Talents and 9 Bronze Talents This charm fires a missile of acid propelled by force anam at a high velocity. This counts as a 18d10s7 Archer Technique. If this attack seizes or maintains tempo, the victim subtracts 1 success from their next 1d4 combat rolls.
Dance at the Midnight Crossroads (Wooden Box)
Traveler Charm 3 (Night 21/Hunger 14/Mind 5)
Trigger Cost: 5 Anam
Charging Cost: 20 Anam
Maintenance Cost: N/A
Materials:
Timbers of the Caravan (Night 11), 6 SECT POINTS
Vestige's Teeth (Hunger 8), free
Game Piece (Mind 3), free
TOTAL: 6 SECT POINTS
Actions:
Refining: 0
R&D: 1
Construction: 3
Infusion: 3
Total: 7
Final BT: 42
DD? YES
Kept: YES Once it is ready, it can be triggered for the above anam cost, summoning the dark Rakshasa. This creature fights to aid its summoner for 8 rounds of combat before dissipating, adding an additional 20d10s7 to every technique its summoner uses.
The Fractal View (Puzzle/Pendant)
Sage Charm 5 (Star 58/Life 25/Blood 10)
Trigger Cost: 10% of Kong Zhi's maximum anam
Charging Cost: 93
Maintenance Cost: 10% of Kong Zhi's maximum anam
Materials:
Blood/Star 42 (A Love Transfixed), TRAUMA
Life 6 (Everbloom), 3 SECT POINTS
TOTAL: 3 SECT POINTS
Actions:
Refining: 0
R&D: 1
Construction: 7
Infusion: 5
Total: 13
Final BT: 93
DD? YES
Kept: YES The culmination of Zhi's current charmcrafting skills, the Fractal View is a tool designed specifically to alter Kong Zhi's form as he wills. By moving it's pieces into different configurations, Kong Zhi can take on a multitude of different forms, as many as there are stars in the sky.
To discover a new form for the Fractal View, Zhi must be inspired. He can reach a state of such inspiration by undergoing new life experiences. Moments of great emotion can trigger the inspiration, granting him new configurations for the Fractal View.
The Weight of Winter (Weapon/Axe)
Warrior Charm 4 (Steel 35/Force 9/Ice 5)
Trigger Cost: N/A(Passive)/4 Anam (Final Strike)
Charging Cost: N/A
Maintenance Cost: N/A
Materials:
Sold to Jai Fa FOR her service of acting as Zhi's champion
The physical embodiment of a promise, The Weight of Winter is a weapon forged by Kong Zhi for his long time friend and accomplice Jai Fa as both payment for a duel and as a token of appreciation.
When in combat and wielding The Weight of Winter, the wielder gains 3 bonus dice to any melee attack they use. In addition, every round that the wielder rolls a 10 or their opponent rolls a 1, they gain 1 point of hardness up to their CON score. At any point in the combat, the wielder may pay The Weight of Winter's trigger cost, sacrificing their stacked hardness and gaining that number of successes to their current roll.
Viscous crimson life bubbled softly in a cauldron as Jingmai stirred with a knarled branch. Bronze braziers lit with carefully banked embers cast the whole cavern in dark reds, letting shadows from stalagmites and stalactites dance with each hiss and pop of cooling fires. A heavy scent of iron lingered here, despite his best efforts at diluting it with incense. Expected, but still unpleasant. Much more pleasing were the murmurs and chants from beyond the iron door. Litanies of worship and reverence softly recited from his disciples and acolytes. All for him. It was vindicating to know that even if those who should understand better rejected his pursuits, there were still those who, with a bit of training and meager display of ability, venerated his genius and talent. As was proper. Speaking about displays in ability…
Grabbing his heavy brass staff next to himself, Jingmai slammed it on the ground three times, the reverberations echoing throughout the chamber. The iron door leading out creaked open slowly and a stream of red-robed acolytes entered with soft prayers and platitudes upon their lips. Quickly, they circled around the still bubbling cauldron before lifting it up. With surety born of repetition, they moved the cauldron through the door. Following them, Jingmai smoothed the creases on his robes before stepping through the door and onto a large elevated platform where the cauldron had been placed.
Before him lay the heart of the little community he had been growing here, in the wilderness and far from the oppressive power structure of the sects. Smoothed grey stone made for an excellent floor, with pews of dark red wood giving those in attendance sufficient seating. Lit candles were scattered around the room, pooling wax adhering them in place. Acolytes and some new supplicants were seated, their murmuring silenced by Jingmai's arrival. He took a moment to let it all sink in, before smiling and spreading open his arms.
"Welcome! Welcome! Again, I welcome you all here. New and old are welcome here, for it is here where we special few may grasp at the very fire which gives life to the world. Your neighbors live in ignorance of which we study here, unable to even conceive of that which you all can possess. For you are special. You trusted. You risked. You traveled. And you arrived. That is no meager feat, instead worthy of reward. Step forward, drink, and realize the reward you have striven so hard to obtain. In so doing, prove that you deserve to be amongst our number."
A shaky man, wearing barely more than rags and a ragged straw hat cautiously stepped forward. At Jingmai's encouraging nod and proffered cup, taken from his storage ring with a twist of the wrist, the man dipped the cup into the bubbling fluid. After a moment of hesitation, the man brought the drink to his lips and drank, letting only a little dribble out in his shaking. Immediately, Jingmai could feel his anam filled concoction race through the man, settling in veins, muscles, and a little spot just below the brain. A careful application of anam kept the man from convulsing while the mixture did its work, but then it was done.
"What… what is this?" The new acolyte murmured.
"Sight and power," answered Jingmai with a smile. "By my will, you can now see the fire undergirding the world. By my will, you can now enact some measure of control over that fire. That which the knowledgeable call anam."
"How?"
"Raise your arm above your head and snap your fingers, the fire shall answer."
The man did so, and JIngmai could feel his anam within the man respond to the motions, spiraling into a simple encoded pattern. A small candle flame appeared at the tip of the man's thumb. Staring at the spark on his thumb, the acolyte became entranced.
"Be warned," Jingmai interrupted gravely, "that your control is yet limited. A few more meager tricks like that and you shall find both sight and power fleeing you. Unless, of course, you remain here. With us, your control and sight will grow until none would dare stand in your way."
"I'll… I'll stay. "
"Wonderful, join your new brothers and sisters, they'll show you to your new home.
"Now, who is next! Who shall come and receive sight and control over the very fires of the world!"
The new acolyte was quickly ushered off the platform by his fellows and more supplicants approached. Each promising whatever meager possessions they had to take part in this ritual. To imbibe his elixir. Or was it a liquid charm? Or technique? Bah, he would let lesser minds try to categorize his genius. He would keep looking to the future, growing his followers, and carving out a place where his greatness was properly recognized.
Unseen by Jingmai or his acolytes a peasant walked out of the chamber. Walking with unerring accuracy through the convoluted tunnels and passages that made up Jingmai's Warren, it took only minutes before they reached the surface. Once there, a single step made the man disappear into the wind, off to deliver a very interesting report to very attentive ears.
A/N: I hope you all enjoy the read! Cults are nasty things in real life, probably even worse in a land of artists with power over the fabric of reality.
I'm honestly surprised it's only week 24 (week 23 being the last week we spent in the sect). That's somewhere between 5 and six months. Half a year sounds really quite short given how long the quest is.
Moonlit Cherry Tree (Bonsai Tree)
Monk Charm ??? (Life/Wood/Moon/Peace/Earth) A tree in miniature, with gently dancing petals lit by ambient moonlight. Seeking to pull the eyes, this charm allows one to contemplate and mediate more easily about the things in between the frenzied action of life. Of quiet nights lit by stars and moon. Of those who walk by your side. And of simple joys to be found in the simple things.
In other matters, do we have any ideas how the smiths will react to Chui Dao? Are the smiths seated or artists? Will they know enough to be very confused about the matter, or will they just shrug their shoulders and say it is merely the weirdness that follows artists?
Edit: Well, this story wouldn't leave my mind, so here it is. Edited into my previous post to avoid double posting
To Die Upon the Ice
Chilling winds tried to cut Tan Feng as he peered out into the howling winds of the Frozen Highlands. Gales tumbling down the white-capped peaks drove ice against flesh, straining to push his command away. Furs, torches, and a few braziers did their best to keep troops warm and hale in this tortured land, but it never seemed to be enough. At least none of them had lost fingers or noses yet. The scent of bloodied snow made his nose twitch and he turned around to stomp back to the command tent with a scowl. That bastard Bing was still out there with who knew how many fools following them. Last report had been a thousand of their artists, but the host was swelling by the day. Servants and Soldiers mostly, but a few Farmers and a sprinkling of Teachers. And of course Bing. The problem that his troops needed to solve before they even had a hope of winning.
Pushing aside the flap shielding his command tent from the elements, Tan Feng took a moment to pull off his gloves and warm his hands with the heat from the brazier located near the entrance. Sergeant Gang was looking at the map for the thousandth time, trying to divine a location missed in previous inspections that would cause trouble. Or maybe, if the Spirits favored them, an unexpected advantage. A soft snort left his nostrils at the thought.
"Welcome back Commander Tan," Sergeant Gang said softly, without ever looking up from the map. "Is the barbarian mob still out there?"
"Yes, and growing. It looks like we'll have a fight on our hands. Any good spots to make our stand?"
"Nothing new, sir. We can put the southern crevasses at our back to help convince the mutinous men to fight to the death, or we can place them between us and the enemy, hoping that they'll thin their own numbers with a frenzied charge."
"Any way we can climb into the crevasses and fight inside the glacier?"
Sergeant Gang quirked an eyebrow at that suggestion, "Unlikely sir, even if they were willing to follow us into those cracks there does not seem to be any particular location to funnel them. They'll probably just leave a token force to make sure we can't climb back out and then go and raze Shuang. Even if we survived Bing's horde, we wouldn't survive the charges regarding dereliction of duties."
"Shit. Has there been any response to our request for reinforcements? Preferably of a caliber who can match Bing?"
Nodding, Sergeant Gang produced a letter with a flourish of his hand and held it out to Tan Feng. Grabbing it, he noted that it was of an unusually white paper with an unknown wax seal. An anvil with three lines radiating out from the top. A quick crack broke the seal, and he read the contents. A Lord Kong would be apparently be arriving shortly to provide resolution to this matter.
"Sergeant, do you know anything about the Kongs?"
"Vaguely, sir. A clan of craftsmen who seem to be rising in the esteem of the Steadfast Court. Apparently, they have had great success in recent years with talented artists rising from their ranks. Powerful charms, if difficult to commission consistent work from."
"Well," Tan Feng grumbled, "whoever he is had better be bringing one hell of a charm to even the score."
A gust of wind blew into the command tent as the flap was flipped open and an austere woman entered. Dressed in a conservative red and gold robe, they looked utterly confident in their strange arrival.
"Miss," Sergeant Gang began hesitantly, "I don't recall you having permission to enter the command tent. I'll have to ask you to leave."
"While I would love nothing more than to do so," the woman said as she stood as rigidly as a post, "I am afraid my duties as herald require attendance."
"Herald? Miss, you really need to…"
"BEHOLD!" The woman suddenly thundered, "Lord Kong Zhi arrives! Tremble at the majesty of his shadow! Venerate the steps he has left behind! Glory crowns his brow! Wisdom is held upon his right! Power upon his left! He who…"
The scent of smoke was the only warning Tan Feng had before a figure appeared within the command tent. A full three meters tall, it appeared to be a finely crafted statue of darkened steel, clothed in an open chested robe of glittering red and autumn yellows. Smoke curled around its head in stands as if it were hair, and one of its eyes glowed with a dark red of molten iron cooling. Hanging low upon a neckless was a cube shining with an inner light.
"Thank you," the statue said, "for the introduction, Lady Laba. I'm sure, however, that the gentlemen here do not need the full pronouncement."
It must have been Tan Feng's imagination, but the statue, who could only be Lord Kong, seemed to have a slight air of embarrassment.
"As you wish, Lord Kong." Lady Laba said with a curt nod.
Clearing his throat, Tan Feng caught the attention of the newcomers to the tent. "My name is Commander Tan, the commander of this unit. My second here is Sergeant Gang. I presume that you are the Lord Kong who was spoken of in the letter?"
"Ah yes, I am pleased that I was able to arrive in time to provide assistance."
"We are certainly glad you did. If you would follow me, I can introduce you to my men and we can begin planning on where the fight shall take place."
There is no need for that," Kong Zhi said while shaking his head. "It was my error in judgment which caused this situation to occur, so it will be by my hand that it is resolved. I simply ask that your men stay behind me, lest they suffer as well." With that, and the scent of smoke Kong Zhi disappeared. Leaving behind Lady Laba.
"His error?" Sergeant Gang broached the question, quirking his eyebrow at Kong Zhi's herald.
"While I was not employed in his service at the time, my understanding is that Bing caught his eye as a boy when Lord Kong was touring the Northern lands. As such, he provided tutoring in the ways of an artist before moving on. Lord Kong has spent many moons sending messages pleading with Bing to choose a different path than the one he currently is set upon. Something about the innumerable possibilities between the acquiesce to horror and its commission. However, we should step outside if we wish to see the fruits of Lord Kong's labor."
Shrugging his shoulders, Tan Feng approached the flap and held it open for Lady Laba to exit first. Immediately, he noticed a change had occurred. No longer were the winds howling, instead becoming eerily still. Which, as he stepped outside after Lady Laba, allowed him to see that the snow had ceased to fall, providing a clear view of the horde arrayed against them and Lord Kong's figure as he walked towards them. There was a feeling of sadness at that moment. A lone man marching against an army in front of him. Then Lord Kong lept into the air and hung there as a sun bloomed around his fist.
"Behold," Lady Laba said with a smile, "the craft of Lord Kong. Forged upon the anvil of a falling star, with fire stolen from the skies. The Unalloyed Flame. That which cleanses the land."
Then Lord Kong released his weapon, and it streaked towards the front of Bing's horde in silence. At its impact, a roar shattered ice and vibrated his bones painfully. With that roar, a pure white flame erupted forward, blinding him for a moment. After the spots left, all that was left was steam, smoldering ice, and statues of men made from ash.
Unalloyed Flame (Javelin)
Archer Charm ??? (Purity, Fire, Star) Purity is the exclusion of all that is not it. No matter the cost, no matter the devastation, no matter the waste. Dross must be removed. This javelin seeks to do just that by revealing the dross of that which its flames touch and burning it to a fine ash. Unfortunately for the javelin's victims, there is no purity to be found.
Legend speaks of Lord Kong forging this devastating weapon with flames stolen from the vaults of heaven upon a star as it fell to the earth. How this feat could have been achieved he has never spoken of, but neither has he dismissed the legend as a falsehood.
A/N: Another omake! I hope you all enjoy the read. As for the herald, I couldn't fit it into the story, but Bihai thought that Kong Zhi's achievements were not as acclaimed as they should have been, so he hired a herald to proclaim Kong Zhi's arrival. Its only supposed to last a year, and Kong Zhi doesn't want to dismiss Bihai's gift, so he endures with only slight embarrassment.
A/N: A big thanks to the 49 people who have pledged to me on Patreon! If you'd like to join them, you can do so here. Or, if you'd like to support me without the monthly commitment, you can buy me a cup of Ko-Fi here. Join up on Patreon now to get an exclusive Bihai sidestory!
Now, before we get to our featured presentation, a quick actual author's note.
First and foremost, I'd like to apologize for the delay in this update. I've been dealing with some annoying work related events IRL, and they've left me with precious little time for writing. What little time I had, I spent trying to get the Patreon story up and running. When that failed- damn you Jetei- I was able to refocus, and the result lies below this note. Thanks to everyone for sticking with me through the delay, and I'll try not to let it be so long next time. No promises though; the work stuff isn't resolved quite yet.
Now onto note number two. You may notice, as you read this update, that one important change has taken place: the POV. After the Royal Road Version of Path was panned for still being in second person, myself, @Cteatus , and @Wistways have been reworking it into something more palatablefor non quest readers- namely, something in either first or third person. Third person was highly annoying to me, so the past updates are being edited into first person for ease of consumption. It's a long and painful task, but it's a necessary one. Also, it's one that needed an end point. Writing the update in second person and then converting it to first is just too much duplication of effort. I was planning on making the swap around update 200 for the sake of the milestone, but that just seemed kinda pointless. So I did it here. Hopefully it's not too jarring.
Now, with all that said, on with the show! Hope you all enjoy!
> There are several volumes of primers meant for neophyte Servants. They are supposed to help ground new walkers of the Path, but you can use their insights to further refine your breathing technique. (Cost: 2 Bronze Talents. Benefit: +1 Knowledge (Cultivation). Procs a follow-up vote to select Breathing Technique Refinements.)
> You become more accustomed to the ebbs and flows of anam and can handle the unexpected with far greater ease. (Natural 1s no longer subtract successes from cycling checks. Requires Knowledge (Cultivation) 8 to integrate into your breathing technique.)
-------------------------------
Since coming to the Delving Heart- no, since I first started learning how to swing a hammer and weave a thread- my entire life seems like it has been focused on practical learning. For the most part, it's served me well. There's only one way to learn how to forge an ingot, weave a canvas, or carve an expression rune, and that's by actually doing it. The same goes for all of the training I've received since coming to the Heart- getting punched in the face is the only way to train in the noble art of getting punched in the face, after all.
Still, for all the benefits of practical learning, there's something to be said for sitting down in an Archive, unrolling a scroll, and learning from the words scribed down by masters in generations past. And as I pay my two bronze talents to enter the primer section of the Archive, a sense of peace mixed with near-giddiness threatens to overtake me. I manage to fight most of it back with an effort of will, but still, I almost skip past the bemused looking attendant and surround myself with hundreds of well-worn scrolls.
Paid: 2 Bronze Talents!
Because while I may have no idea what tomorrow will bring, and I'm fairly certain something will try and kill us all once more before this journey ends, for now? For now I can train in the least threatening way possible- by reading, an activity far less likely to kill me than Wugui's exercises, is much less frustrating than being poked in the head by Kumi, and is more interesting than banking a charmforge's flames.
Not that tending to a charmforge is boring. It's a rewarding experience and fascinating to learn, complex and intriguing with near limitless possibilities. But at the end of the day, a charmforge is a tool for one purpose: refining materials. While a scroll? It could just be a record of information, or it could be the musings and thought processes of any number of scholars who have contributed to the subject..
Such is the case with the first scroll I let unfurl. Though the title painstakingly painted on its case proclaims it to be nothing but an outline of the basic breathing technique taught at the School of Soaring Doves, a smaller school that focuses on studying the various anam aspects unique to certain birds. It certainly does have that technique, but it takes a few minutes for me to decipher it as I unearth bits and pieces of the cycling technique from musings about the nature of anam in general, bird anam specifically, and small pieces of scholarly sniping slipped in as fact that do nothing other than insult various aspects of anam.
Apparently practitioners of Hawk Anam really don't care for those who cycle Eagle Anam, and the less said about Artists who train in Owl Anam the better. Also, those who cycle Duck are basically just glorified Beast Artists, unworthy of the title of Bird Artist. Who knew?
That's just the start of the nuggets buried deep within the scrolls. A primer donated by the Resolute March contains a dozen asides on how advancement can only be driven by true conflict. Another, left by a wandering Artist, waxes poetic on the virtues of cycling mud anam while barefoot and standing knee-deep in the wettest mud one can find. Several scrolls, all given by the Slumbering Tiger School, preach a passive path and that all Artists should simply take each day as it comes, lest they incur karmic punishment from unlikely sources. That can't be taken as fact, though; other scrolls, these written by the Elder of the Summit, a self-proclaimed wandering Master, says that tempting that same karmic punishment and surviving it is the secret to productive advancement.
What that last bit has to do with his Burning Ember breathing technique, I'm not entirely sure. But it's in the scroll, so it has to be at least a bit important.
As hours pass, bits and pieces of interesting breathing techniques come together in my notes. More than that, various insights and thoughts from those daring enough to commit their thoughts to paper, contradictory though some of them may be, begin to join with everything else I know to further my knowledge of the nature of Anam itself.
I cannot say I fully understand Anam. Indeed, as these writings prove, no one truly does. The nature of Anam itself is a hotly debated subject, argued over by sages and scholars the world over. Entire continents have been plunged into war over different theories, with cities and nations alike fading from the maps as interpretations change and ideas take hold. But no viewpoint ever seems to truly vanish; they just re-emerge later on as thoughts travel down the same well-worn paths.
One path that emerges again and again through all of my reading is that Anam doesn't truly come from anywhere, really. It just… sort of is. Anam doesn't sprout from some wellspring or flow through the earth like a river. It just exists, intertwined with every facet of life so tightly that it cannot be seen. It matters not how strong, how weak, how grand, or how humble something is- Anam is part of it.
The lowest grain of sand, a charging stallion, an elderly Seated, the afternoon breeze… all have Anam woven into their very existence, invisible and unseen- that is, until the vessel holding the anam changes. Here, the scholars begin to contradict each other even more, with none being certain as to what constitutes a change but all equally convinced everyone else is wrong. But all are convinced that when the vessel undergoes some great change of some sort, the anam grows in strength and power, and it is only then that it is aspected. It is only then that it becomes detectable by Artists.
Knowledge (Cultivation) +1!
The musings go beyond the theoretical in some places as well. One scroll, scribed by a troupe of wandering Artists who called themselves 'the Jesters of Sunset', expounds upon that line of thinking and draws some very interesting conclusions. They claim that as everything and everyone contains anam, even down to every last drop of blood in your body, there must be a way for an Artist to use that innate anam to their own benefit. By adding a slight pause to their breathing technique, they claim that the Artist can use that latent anam to stabilize any unruly snags in their cycling, protecting them from some of the drawbacks of improper channeling.
Their words, though baffling and strange, are also compelling. I don't know near enough to put their theories into practice- incorporating such a pause into my own breathing technique would require a complete dissection of what I've already built- but still, I copy down every last scrap of knowledge left by the Jesters.
I may not be able to use it yet. If I can further my understanding of my own natural energies, though? Perhaps I can perform that necessary dissection.
Breathing Technique Adaptation discovered! Natural 1s no longer subtract successes from cycling checks. This adaptation is locked until Kong Zhi reaches Knowledge (Cultivation) 8!
And there's no better place and time to further my understanding than right here and right now. I almost giggle as I pull another scroll penned by the Jesters towards me. There are very few things quite as rewarding as falling into a productive reading groove and this is a good one I've found here. Hours may have passed as I read, but all the time spent is worth it to further my own understanding. It would take a true act of the divine to pull me from these Archives while I've been making such progress. Only a real emergency could-
"Excuse me, Lord Kong?"
I pause and turn, one eyebrow creeping up my forehead as I turn my focus to the interruption. The speaker is one of the Archive Attendants, a small, mousey looking fellow in patched robes. Only the fact that he looks like he would be anywhere else right now keeps me from snapping at him. So instead, I fight to keep my thoughts in order and nod in his direction. "Yes?"
"My apologies for the disruption, Lord," the attendant responds. "But, um, if you, I…"
Anything the man might want to say is lost amid a stuttering forest of pauses and confused mumbles. I wait for another moment to see if he'll eventually find his words, but when nothing coherent comes up, I have no choice but to interrupt his nervous fumbling. "Do you require something, good sir?" I ask. "Because if not, I would very much like to continue with my work."
The attendant freezes for a fraction of a second before dipping, lowering into a sharp bow. "And we are honored that the words we keep are valued by one such as yourself!" he almost barks back. "But, um, before you continue your readings, I… Lord, it… is…"
He trails off again. This time, there's no stopping my sigh. I let it out with a heave and fix the man with my one exposed eye. "Ancestors above sir, please just say whatever it is you came over here to say."
The poor attendant fights to find some decorum for the briefest fraction of eternity. Eventually, though, he's left with no choice but to slump and point at a space over my shoulder. "Lord Kong, does that… creature belong to you?"
I stare at him gormlessly for a long moment- and as I do, one of the thoughts I had pushed aside in my studious zeal creeps back to the forefront of my mind. Only it isn't exactly one of my thoughts. Nor is it one that is fully comprehensible.
It… it actually sounds like a song.
"<Mughi! Muuuughi! Mu! Mu! Mu Ghi Ghi! Mu! Mughi! Mu Mu Mu Ghi Ghi!>
Ever so slowly, I turn and follow the attendant's pointing finger.
As the almost whispered song in my head might indicate, the attendant is not pointing at open space. Instead, I spy the ethereal shape of Chui Dao floating freely through the Archive shells. But my cylindrical companion is not flying aimlessly. It seems to be trailing an increasingly agitated reader, hovering up and slightly to the right of the woman's shoulder as its blindingly blue eye peers at the scrolls she's attempting to take down. Something about her audience seems to be giving the reader pause, however, and the scroll rattles against its neighbors as she fights to free it with trembling hands.
After a few failed attempts she seems to give up. The would-be reader turns and scurries away, moving with the speed of the scared. Chui Dao gives her no further attention though; instead, it floats through several more shelves until it finds a new target. Once it has found another poor soul struggling with the scrolls, the Kukuni takes up its position floating behind the man's shoulder and staringly fiercely at what he's reading.
Soon enough, the archive goer notices his audience. You can tell when he spots Chui Dao; it's when he leaps about three feet straight up into the air from a seated position. Chui Dao doesn't seem to notice the reaction though; all of his focus is on the scrolls.
Does… does Chui Dao not know people can see it? I'm… I'm fairly certain it doesn't. The song that is still being sung in my head is not one I'm familiar with, but it does bring to mind an old song that Cousin Cui used to hum to herself when she thought she was being sneaky. Is this Chui Dao's attempt at subtlety?
If so, it's a painful one, and one that had best end soon. I turn back to the attendant and give him a reluctant nod. "Yes, the Kukuni is my… acquaintance. Give me a moment and I will… wait, how did you know that I knew Chui Dao?"
The attendant looks from me to Chui Dao's steadily spiraling form and then back again. "It, um, seems obvious, Lord Kong," comes the nervous reply. "It… you are one of our only irregular visitors, after all. Would it not make sense for one visitor to our humble archives to be associated with another?"
…by which he means that I'm bright crimson at all times with a steadily glowing eyepatch and so seem strange enough to possibly be associated with a shining silver Kukuni that thinks it's being stealthy.
Well. I consider the attendant's words, and the words he hasn't spoken, and try to decide if I should be insulted or not. In the end, I shrug the possible insult off. After all, it's not like he's wrong.
"I see," I answer instead. "Very well. Give me a moment, and I will curtail Chui Dao's… studies. And I offer my apologies to anyone they may have inconvenienced with their curiosity."
"No apologies are needed from such an august visitor," the attendant answers rotely. "But… Lord Kong, your… friend has… their conduct is beyond reproach, surely, and serves some higher purpose that this humble Seated can only dream of comprehending. But it has… not proven conducive to an intellectual environment. Perhaps you could continue your studies another day? And come back when your Kukuni has other plans?"
I shake my head. "That won't be necessary," I answer. "Once I have a word with Chui Dao, I'm certain this behavior won't repeat itself. Give me but a moment." I go to stand, but the attendant doesn't move.
He is actually wringing his hands with a worried look on his face. "Lord Kong, we've received a dozen complaints thus far. The Head Archivist begs your forgiveness, but he has made himself very clear on this point. You are welcome to return another time… but not today."
***
Five minutes later, beneath the bright spring sun, I cast a gimlet glare at Chui Dao. "I can't believe you got us kicked out of the Archives!"
<Muuuuuu!>
"Yes, it was your fault! I did nothing whatsoever to bother a single soul!"
<Ghi! GhiMuGhiMu!>
"No, I most certainly was not reading loudly! How I would I even- no, I will not even dignify that with an answer! The facts-" I pause and turn, meeting the eyes of a passerby who has stopped in the middle of the road to stare at the argument I'm having with the glowing Kukuni. "Excuse me, this is a private conversation."
The bystander shudders and turns, running off as fast as his legs can take him. I don't spare him another thought as I turn back to Chui Dao. "As I was saying, the facts are clear: I would still be reading right now if you hadn't decided to start bothering people!"
<Mu Mu Ghi Mu!>
"I assure you, everyone knew you were there! If that was indeed your attempt to be 'a shadow of the night', then it needs work! What were you even thinking?"
Chui Dao's response is a long string of words that begin with 'Mu' and end with 'Ghi', each higher pitched than the last until the tail end of its answer threatens to vanish from 'audible' hearing. It's so long and garbled that it's a struggle to comprehend the Kukuni's thought speak. When I finally do, I can only stare goggle eyed at the steel specter. "No! Being bored is not a good enough reason! It…"
My words trip and fall over each other as Chui Dao seems to shrivel under my displeasure. The Kukuni seems to droop, and every last inch of its spectral flesh screams of forlorn sadness. Chui Dao's body retracts until it resembles a silver dish more than anything else and begins to wobble, tipping back and forth in the air.
<Muuuuuuuu…..>
I bite my lip and turn my gaze towards the sky. The spirit in front of me… it's a kukuni. It is a moment made manifest, an instant of time given power, a horrifying killer of man. They're monsters, worse than even the most fiendish of Spirit Beasts. A Spirit Beast may devour you with malice in its heart, but a Kukuni will do it with ineffable and alien indifference. The tales of Artists pasts are littered with the fiendish acts of Kukuni and their alien minds, and the one time I've encountered such a spirit in the past, I've most certainly come out worse for wear.
So why does pity of all things threaten to boil up in my heart?
For a moment, I contemplate the clouds. But then I look back down at the wobbling Chui Dao and force myself to consider its actions- not as a ravenous spirit of slaughter, but as a living creature. It claims that it's bored and… honestly, if it were anything but a Kukuni, I could understand. Any living creature needs stimulation, after all, and what has Chui Dao to entertain itself besides watching whatever it is I'm doing?
Most of the time, that would likely be enough. It's not like my life is staid and placid, after all. But for a months old creature like Chui Dao, being forced to sit and watch as I stare at scroll after scroll must've been excruciating. No wonder it decided to come out and see what all the fuss was about.
"...fine," I finally grunt. "I… I apologize for my harsh words. I don't approve of your actions, but I can understand them. Next time, I will get you something to read on your own."
<Mu!> The simple admission is enough to reinvigorate the Kukuni. Chui Dao shines brighter and it's sapphire eye seems to dance through its ephemeral flesh as it dances in circles around my head. <Ghi! Ghimughi!>
A joy bubbles up in my heart that's not my own, and it takes every last bit of control I have to keep from laughing with Chui Dao's happiness. Still, I reach out and pat its shining body as if it were a floating dog. It's cold and spongy beneath my touch, but the simple gesture redoubles the near-giddiness coursing through my veins.
"Now come on," I say to the spirit. "We cannot lurk in the Archive entrance all day. Let's go and…" I pause as I consider my options. Mei Daiyu and Zhuan Kun are both long gone. I'm temporarily banned from the Archives. So where should I and a surprisingly jubilant spirit go?
Half remembered words from the Innkeeper float through my head and I nod. "The craftsmen of Mockingjay ply their trade in the Ash District on the other side of the city. That sounds interesting enough, don't you think?"
<GhiGhiGhiGhiGhi!>
That answers that, I suppose. Decision made, Chui Dao and I head off, easily making our way through the crowds that part around us.
It quickly proves simple to find the Ash District. All I need to do is follow the sound of hammers on steel. It rings throughout the southeast corner of Mockingjay, smashing through the murmur of the crowds like thunder breaking through a cloudless day. The scarred streets begin to vanish under a dark coating of soot and ash, and the gutters on either side are clogged with waterlogged cinders.
The everpresent press of people lightens the closer we get to the Ash District. Before too long, only a handful of the once mighty throng remain, leaving me with a clear view of a dozen smiths laboring over anvils. From this close the sounds of the hammers are almost deafening, but it's nothing I'm not used to. As for Chui Dao, though the sounds make its form ripple with each clang, it practically dances around the sparks, pausing only to peer at each smith's individual technique.
Unlike the scholars in the archives, the smiths of the Ash District couldn't seem to care less about Chui Dao's curiosity. I'm not entirely sure they even notice my Kukuni companion's eager gaze; all of their focus is on their work. No less than half a dozen craftsmen are laboring over pieces of painstakingly embossed brass, adding fine details with delicate carving tools. Others have their attention fully devoted to armor, weapons, and in one case, even a bronzed horn of some type.
It's that last that gives me pause. Dozens of things have passed between my hammer and anvil before. I've worked on blades of all stripes, armor in its various forms, rings and medallions alike, but never an instrument. And the differences in how the smith is handling the metal are immediately apparent.
"See how he's flattening the metal?" I mutter to Chui Dao, voice pitched low to keep from bothering the craftsmen. "That's to ensure consistent thickness throughout the entire piece. A horn isn't like a sword or an axe; if there's a minute difference in the metal's thickness anywhere in the finished work, anyone who uses it will be able to notice it in seconds."
<Mu?>
"It's that obvious, yes. If the horn is malformed, the notes it plays will be out of tune at best and strangled at worst. If the horn is thicker around the neck, then whoever blows it will have to empty their lungs to get even the smallest noise from it. An imperfection in the thickness near the bell is no better; that can warp and change the note, ruining its tone and clarity."
Chui Dao bobs up and down in midair, as if nodding along. Heartened, I carry on, gesturing at the craftsman as he shaves a lump off his flattened piece of bronze. "Unless I miss my guess, he has some type of central molding rod back behind his anvil. When the metal is ready, he'll put the rod in the middle of the sheet and use it as a guidance post. The horn will be formed around the rod, ensuring even construction, and then the rod'll be removed. After that, all that will be left is the detail work."
The Kukuni lets out another appreciative <Ghi> before floating on to the next anvil. I follow him and continue my impromptu lecture as I hold a cloth up to my mouth to filter out the smoke filling the air. "Now this good sir is working on something a bit more intricate: a full shirt of chain. I've worked with chainmail in the past, and it can be tricky work. It needs a hot flame, a firm hand, and quick reflexes. The important thing when working with chain is the speed you assemble the individual links. Too quickly and the chain fuses together, losing its elasticity. If you're too slow, however, it becomes brittle and weak…"
So the afternoon passes. Chui Dao and I pass anvil after anvil, each hosting a smith working on their own project. Some are smashing out quick, hasty swords, clearly part of a bulk order they don't expect to be inspected all that closely. Others are using their time on more difficult work, whether it be horns, delicate armor, or even elaborate sculptures. One smith is even working with silver, using all of their skill and talent to shape it into a delicate looking gauntlet. With each passing project, I provide commentary, finding a fertile, curious mind lurking behind Chui Dao's blinkless stare.
But as the sun begins to set, it's impossible to miss that Chui Dao's focus is not exactly spread evenly.
It's so subtle that I almost think I'm imagining it. Chui Dao listens attentively to every word that I say, Mu'ing and Ghi'ing along with each passing project. But when we speak about certain pieces, the spirit seems content to let my lecture speak for itself. When I talk about shields, armor, jewelry, or any other more 'passive' works, Chui Dao just nods along until I've said my piece.
But when we get to a more warlike project? Then, and only then, does Chui Dao have questions. Every time a blade draws near, my head itches with Chui Dao's curiosity. I describe each technique used in intricate detail only to stop as a thousand questions about forging temperature, bohi depths, and point thickness bombard my subconscious. When the first thousand are answered, they only prompt another hundred, all of which must be answered before Chui Dao will consent to move on to the next piece.
It's a bit strange, in all honesty. Chui Dao may have been born from a forging hammer, but one would assume that that hammer was used on a multitude of things, not just blades. But weapons of war seem to be all that the Kukuni truly cares for. Have I been swinging him into so many enemies that he's developed a taste for it?
Either way, the day is drawing to an end, and there's only a few forges still burning in the Ash District. I've time to explain perhaps one more project to Chui Dao before we need to head back to the Inn to prepare for tomorrow.
Which forge do we visit?
[] The weaponsmith currently laboring over a dagger-axe. It's an older style weapon, which means that there's plenty for Chui Dao to be curious about.
[] The armorer who is putting the finishing touches on a gleaming helmet. It may not be the most fascinating thing for Chui Dao, but the Kukuni needs a well-rounded education.
[] The jeweler preparing an elaborate chain sleeve. It's fine work that's close to my heart, and I'm certain that Chui Dao can benefit from further jewelry lessons.
[x] The weaponsmith currently laboring over a dagger-axe. It's an older style weapon, which means that there's plenty for Chui Dao to be curious about.
Dagger-axes are cool. Admittedly we could use armor-smithing more than weapon-smithing with our current goals and mats, but eh.
[X] The weaponsmith currently laboring over a dagger-axe. It's an older style weapon, which means that there's plenty for Chui Dao to be curious about.
He's a Steel/War kukuni, and his interest matters. He grows by doing things related to his moment. So let's go with this.
Chui Dao seems to have gotten a lot from the War wonder, so he's probably a Steel/War Kukuni.
The issue is i don't think our little hammer realizes that any charm can be used as a weapon of war no matter how innocuous looking. After all, a cloth to cover a fist can do as much as a dagger or a knife depending on quality, make and design.
[X] The weaponsmith currently laboring over a dagger-axe. It's an older style weapon, which means that there's plenty for Chui Dao to be curious about.
[x] The weaponsmith currently laboring over a dagger-axe. It's an older style weapon, which means that there's plenty for Chui Dao to be curious about.
[X] The armorer who is putting the finishing touches on a gleaming helmet. It may not be the most fascinating thing for Chui Dao, but the Kukuni needs a well-rounded education.
[X] The weaponsmith currently laboring over a dagger-axe. It's an older style weapon, which means that there's plenty for Chui Dao to be curious about.
[x] The weaponsmith currently laboring over a dagger-axe. It's an older style weapon, which means that there's plenty for Chui Dao to be curious about.
[X] The armorer who is putting the finishing touches on a gleaming helmet. It may not be the most fascinating thing for Chui Dao, but the Kukuni needs a well-rounded education.
Reading Kong Ves has prepared me for first person pretty well!
by reading, an activity far less likely to kill me than Wugui's exercises, is much less frustrating than being poked in the head by Kumi, and is more interesting than banking a charmforge's flames.
[X] The weaponsmith currently laboring over a dagger-axe. It's an older style weapon, which means that there's plenty for Chui Dao to be curious about.
Our boy is weapon nut. That War aspect is definitely shining through.
[X] The armorer who is putting the finishing touches on a gleaming helmet. It may not be the most fascinating thing for Chui Dao, but the Kukuni needs a well-rounded education.
[x] The weaponsmith currently laboring over a dagger-axe. It's an older style weapon, which means that there's plenty for Chui Dao to be curious about.
