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The Reward for a Job Well Done

Firnagzen

Firnagzen

Operator
Spring, 1153

Westerly winds, winding through the Crane city of Samui Kaze Toshi to gust out over the seas. For once, the winds of the Cold Wind City blow warm and soothing, chasing away the sullen chill of a city wrought of obdurate stone.

The great harbour of the trade city throngs with activity. Ships fill the calm blue waters, bobbing gently on the waves. A forest of masts fills the bay from end to end, broadbeamed merchanteers sculling around the titanic spectres of the ships of the Mantis Clan.

Evening encroaches, the city and waters alike painted in fiery, orange hues by the setting sun.

The creak of wood and crash of surf competes with hundreds of sailors, surly or boisterous or simply loud. The endless toil of the dockworkers proceeds apace, the humdrum drudgery of unloading and loading ships amidst a cacophony of shouting and the dickering of merchants.

Rumours surge across the docks, a powerful undercurrent of whispers to rival any riptide. The leviathan ships of the Mantis Clan had swept into the harbour just two days prior, sleek and armoured and massive, towering over even the greatest atakebune. And yet more had anchored in the rougher waters outside the bay, an armada hardly before seen in the history of Rokugan.

The ships arrived at the tail end of an unusual influx delegations from the Great Clans of Rokugan - Crab and Scorpion, Dragon and Crane and Unicorn. Each one delegation bore a letter stamped with the Imperial Crest, presented to Lord Kakita Kyousuke.

Within the grand hall of Shiro no Samui Kaze, Lord Kakita holds a banquet, a quietly intense affair in honour of the mission - to go where no good samurai had been before. The lands of the gaijin, to be the eyes of Rokugan, and if necessary, her spear to strike down enemies from afar.
 
Kakita Shinji slowly eats the rice placed in front of him. He wears a simple, militaristic cut kimono, his family mon on one shoulder and his school on the other. Not like family has much to do with me, he muses silently, slowly and carefully eating the meal in front of him. Even now, he sat the furthest away from the Lord Kakita as they could put him. Internally he rolled his eyes and picked at a hem on his icy blue kimono before turning back to his meal.

The rice was much better than anything he had eaten on the Wall, that much was for sure. The chicken was exceptionally well seasoned and quite tender...I guess this is a perk to being at the Governor's banquet. The miso still steamed in its bowl, fresh and hot. The assorted vegetables were also much better than anything too, even if he didn't care much for them. Still it would be a greater waste to not eat them, so he did. Really though, this is too much for me, the richness...and father wanted to know why I didn't want to join the artisans. The dark haired man let out an almost imperceptible sigh and goes back to eating. Waste not, want not.
 
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Two figures sit straight-backed and proud at a table, clothed in sea-green and black, their various mon stitched in gold. They practically radiate confidence and quiet self-assurance. An old and scarred man, slender and broad of shoulder with a sun-weathered and wrinkly little smile etched on his face as he surreptitiously keeps track of the conversations around him. He picks every now and again at the fish before him, sometimes wrinkling his nose.

"Makajo-san," he finally says with a theatrical sigh, eyes glittering with amusement, "I do not envy you this task. Gaijin... ach. What a time to be alive, to be young." He pauses, before allowing his lips to quirk. "Although if Kakita-sama does not get on with things soon, I suspect that I'll be in my next life soon enough."

The young woman opposite him looks up from her dish with an expression of intense concentration. She regards her senior for a moment, mouth a thin line, before shrugging her massive shoulders; her thin, finely made kimono does most nothing to conceal the vast muscle underneath. A slight discoloration, a birthmark, runs from her lip down past a slight chin, before wrapping around her square jaw like a fishhook. She wears a minimum of makeup, face framed by jaw-length dark brown hair.

"There is nothing to envy, my lord," Makajo huffs, finally schooling her frown into a neutral expression. "And Kakita-sama will speak soon enough; this is his way. For as long as I have known the man he has had an inclination for the... dramatic." She trails off, trading a knowing look with her superior.

"You would know," the man snorts, leaning back in his seat.

Makajo allows herself to smile for a moment, old memories running inside her head. She notes the Scorpion delegation seems rather eclectic, even by Mantis standards.

"Yes. I would."
 
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Seated right in the middle of the Crane delegation, Shosuro Koujuro looks decidedly out of place in his immaculate black and crimson robes. Indeed, he is closer to the host's seat than a few members of said host's own clan. Koujuro has no doubt he's being used as a benchmark for which members of the Crane Kakita Kyousuke feels like snubbing this evening. Still, the Kakita mon on Koujuro's left breast grants him legitimacy in the sea of blue and white.

Lowering his scarf momentarily to take a small bite of fish, Koujuro scans the room. A Mantis courtier seems to be looking at him. Resisting the urge to stare himself (she's huge!), Koujuro lets his eyes flick to the rest of the Scorpion delegation, seated further away. They, too, are staring.

Koujuro can read concern on his old friend Yogo Noboru's face; the normally implacable Shugenja looks to be a bit anxious for Koujuro's well-being. Koujuro can see why: the leader of the Scorpion delegation, Shosuro Shiawase, is radiating a stronger menace than usual. Koujuro can feel the seasoned old woman's gaze burn into his very soul.

Suddenly it's too hot. Koujuro regrets wearing his scarf.
 
I really should be wearing my armor right now.

That thought had crossed Kaiu Shinjiro's mind often as he observed the gathering, slowly eating his food with steady hands. Yasuki Haruna is speaking with some of her counterparts amongst the Dragon, but he is not paying that any attention. He is too busy watching the people, and observing the structure of the castle itself from where he sits in the middle of the table. Perhaps an odd place for the Crane to place guests from the Crab, but considering Shinjiro's status with them...

I should be wearing my armor, and I should be with my betrothed, he thought sullenly. Not amongst this edifice that is as much wasteful ornamentation as it is a fortress.

He scowled at the assembled delegates, wishing he had his hammer near by. He felt naked without it. No Samurai was complete without their weapons, and surely even during court and celebration it could be understood that one needed to be ready for any possibility of trouble. None knew more than the Crab what horrors could move unseen amongst the midst of the Emerald Empire, after all.

But even as those complaints crossed his mind, his thought turned to his beloved Asahina Yasuko. Of her shining white hair... Her pristinely high cheekbones... That intensely powerful gaze of her frosty blue eyes... Truly, she was without flaw, and to be denied her presence was a weight upon his heart greater than the entirety of the Kaiu Wall itself. But even with that separation, thinking upon her comforted him from the aggravation that had been souring his mood.

His scowl changed to a smile as he ate more of the admittedly fine Crane dishes laid out for the feast, having to keep himself from shaking his head in wonderment. To be so smitten by another, and a Crane at that. But it was true, and to deny it would be beyond foolish.

Now if only she felt the same about him, instead of looking at Shinjiro with those cold eyes so full of disdain. Shinjiro would admit he was taken utterly by the woman he would be wed to, but he was not blind. Asahina Yasuko did not love him, not as he loved her. In truth, he believed she resented his presence in her life with the silent power of a furious current pulling beneath the surface of calm waters.

Well, that was partially why he was here. If all went favorably on this mission, he would win back enough acclaim and honor that his betrothed would have to see his better qualities, would realize that he wished only the best for her and this union. The unfortunate enmity between their two Clans didn't have to cause strife between them, and he was sure they could overcome such lamentable circumstances.

So he ate, and smiled softly looking forward to the days to come.
 
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Tsubasa Tamori, a young dragon a few precious years out of her Gempukku, puts on a convincing facade of calmness as she surveys the room at large. The long wide sleeves of her green and gold kimono hang off her wrists, away from her food, as she daintily consumes the meal provided. "Peace comes from within, do not seek it without." She comments blandly to the person sitting across from her, brown eyes flicking to the north and black ponytail swishing between her shoulder blades.

Araragi Mirumoto, an aged bushi veteran with graying hair from the Spirit Wars, reaches for another slice of fish with a bored expression. "I seldom end up where I wanted to go, but almost always where I needed to be." His gravely voice counters.

Tsubasa's chopsticks freeze for just a moment as the subtle chastisement sinks in. "Life is a succession of lessons which must be lived to be understood." She nods with a deep exhale to mask her sigh.

Araragi's sharp gaze lingers for a moment longer on his charge before he resumes eating his food. "The roots of education are bitter, but the fruit is sweet." The older samurai opines with a sage nod.
 
Kakita Kyousuke rises to his feet in one lazy, smooth motion. He's tall for a Crane, tall and broad shouldered. Intelligence, the leashed, languid cunning of a great cat lurks in his eyes as he surveys the grand hall, idly brushing white hair away from his face.

His eyes travel over the delegations. Taking place of honour to his right are the Mantis, the muscled, scarred warriors of the sea, many of them looking ill at ease in their fine kimonos. They're led by a younger man, heavily tanned and heavyset. His harsh features are softened by laugh lines, and Makajo sits not too far to his left.

On the right of the Mantis sit the Unicorn, lean warriors with hawkish features poking desultorily at the food. They look disgruntled, for most part, though some hide it better than others.

Continuing onwards are the Crab, led by a heavily scarred man with tousled, messy black hair, thick, ugly scars running down the left side of his face. Sharp eyes peer from beneath a heavy brow as he lays aside his chopsticks with deliberate slowness. He gazes at Kyousuke with barely veiled insouisance.

Last in place to Kyousuke's right are the Lion, in the yellows and browns of their clan colours. They look displeased with the ceremony and finery, lookimg up, with reluctant attention.

To the Lord Kakita's left sit his own Clan, the Crane, a sea of white and blue and elegant motions coming to a graceful halt as their already elegant, ramrod straight postures straighten to attention. Towering over all but the tallest of the Crab clan is their leader, a huge, white haired man, moving with elegant motions despite his size.

On the left of the Crane sit the Dragon, amidst a pool of silence. Robes of gold, accented with dark green, form a sharp contrast as they observe the room - some of them are clearly mentally scribing this occasion to memory. At their head sits the timeworn figure of their leader, bored and evaluating.

And finally, the blood red and black of the Scorpion Clan, rounds out the Clans represented here today. The masked figures, inscrutable and remote, murmur quietly among themselves, the whispers dying out as Lord Kakita rises.

"Honoured guests!" Kyousuke booms into the expectant silence. "I hope this evening finds you well."

He surveys his audience again, taking in the reactions. "Today, we find ourselves upon the cusp of a historic occasion. Rokugan, our Emerald Empire, shall set forth the hand of friendship towards even the gaijin - let it never be said that we are without graciousness! And of course, should they refuse our generous offer-" He nods towards the more martial of the Clans, "-then it falls to us to fulfil our duty as samurai, and see to it that they are no longer a threat to our nation."

"To the delegations due to venture forth upon this journey, I wish you all the very best," Kyousuke continues. "You have been provided with the finest rooms available this night, and should there be any amenities we can provide, they shall be made available."

The man inclines his head towards the samurai in the room. "Enjoy your meals," he says, and seats himself in a smooth motion, a faintly satisfied expression on his face.

OoC: The delegation leaders are: Yoritomo Minato (Mantis), DaiDoji Youta (Crane), Shosuro Shiawase (Scorpion), Mirumoto Araragi (Dragon), Kaiu Takumi (Crab). Additionally, it should be noted that Kyousuke's statement of purpose for the mission... kind of conflicts with what you know, which is straight up to evaluate and mitigate any threat.
 
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Makajo listens impassively, her only reaction the narrowing of her eyes as she digests Kakita Kyousuke's not at all subtle implications. For not the first time, and certainly not the last, she briefly ponders how much effort it would take to snap the preening Crane's long neck in her scarred, massive hands; the thought has kept her sane through many difficulties in the port of Samui Kaze Toshi. And judging by the reactions of the other delegations let slip, the idea seems to be a popular one.

At that her lips curl into a little smile. "Smug bastard," she mutters softly before digging into her meal. She will act when the moment is right - but for now, Makajo decides, she will enjoy the fireworks.
 
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So that explains why they let me come so readily, Koujuro thinks to himself as he resumes eating. But why on earth are they sending granny Shiawase on this mission? She only goes where she can sink her claws into someone....

Adjusting his scarf, Koujuro suddenly feels self-conscious, as if the entire room can sense his unease. All he wanted out of this excursion was an excuse not to see the matchmaker, but everything seems to have gone wrong. He was given a place of honor among the Crane, for one thing, which instantly earned him Shiawase's ire. To be given a greater honor than a seasoned veteran of the same clan...Koujuro can't even blame the old woman for her reaction.

The beleaguered poet takes a long draught of his tea. He'll need a miracle to get through this with his vitals intact.
 
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Tsubasa's eyes widen fractionally before narrowing. That's not what she heard, not at all. Evalutate and neutralize a threat yes, but extend a hand of friendship? To non-people ouside the Celestial Wheel? To those that do not believe in the the Kami, the Celestial Dragons, and the Fortunes?

A frown begins to form involuntarily on her face before she remembers her earlier scolding. The young Dragon schools her face, stiffens up her posture and resolves to keep her eyes open and wits about her more than usual during this mission.
 
@Firnagzen
Shinji stares for a moment at the leader of the fine port city. Friendship. To the gaijin. He very slowly turns to take in his superior, the hulking Doji Youta and tilts his head just the smallest bit. "This is a rather...interesting turn of events, Doji-sama," he says quietly, keeping his voice low. "I was not aware that we would be offering an open hand."

On one hand, he knows he shouldn't question Kakita-sama's wisdom. If the trip went well, and it would; duty demanded no less, then the Crane would be able to add even more prestige to themselves. On the other however...these were gaijin. Really that's all that needed to be said.
 
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"What in the name of all the Thousand Fortunes?" Shinjiro muttered, looking at Kakita Kyousuke in disbelief.

This wasn't what they'd been told, not by a handspan or a mile. The missive to the Crab, which he had been informed of when ordered to join this delegation, was that this was a military operation to evaluate and neutralize potential Gaijin threats. And now they were told that they might be offering alliance to the foreigners?

He ground his teeth and stood up, keeping his face calm. He couldn't afford making an outburst here, even if that damned Kakita looked incredibly smug after making his declaration. He needed to stay in good favor with the Crane. He had to show them all, and especially his beloved Asahina Yasuko, that he could act with both courtesy and grace.

Even so, he wasn't just going to let this pass. Misinformation cost lives, and he couldn't in good conscious just ignore what had happened.

"I must beg your pardon, Kakita-sama, and hope you do not take any offense at my interruption," he said in as even a tone as he could manage, bowing so deeply at the waist he was almost putting himself back on the floor again. "But I find myself confused. I was led to believe this was a purely military action being taken against the Gaijin to study their capabilities and prevent possible dangers to the Empire. I don't doubt what you say is true, of course, but I fear I must have misunderstood exactly what the goals of this gathering were to be."
 
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Tsubasa's metaphorical ears perk up at the Crab's question. It's something she'd really like clarified herself after all. She's not sure if this particular Crab is brave or stupid, but she's happy to benefit from his misfortune all the same.

Reflecting on the thought some more, and the Clan in question, Tsubasa realizes it's almost certainly stupid and brave.
 
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Koujuro blinks owlishly at the Crab samurai's sudden protest. The outburst is not unwelcome by any means. Koujuro has no doubt that this impertinent samurai voiced what many in the room were thinking, thereby sparing them the embarrassment of asking.

This one will be useful. If he's smart, anyway. If he's stupid, he'll at least be entertaining.
 
Makajo's eyes crinkle and she smiles broadly, regarding the Kaiu. She laughs, full and rich from the stomach against the tense silence. How wonderful, cousin. How absolutely wonderful.

Leaning forward in her seat, she rests her chin on one palm, joining the Crab in regarding the Crane lord through her eyelashes like a sailor eyeing an incoming storm, the question remains unspoken in her stony gaze. Do go on, Kakita-sama.
 
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Shinji's eyes snap to the Mantis woman, eyebrow arching ever so subtly. What in the Kamis' name is this woman thinking? Such blatant disregard...I suppose it is to be expected of the Mantis. He carefully schools his face into neutrality, the Crab man that spoke may very well be living on borrowed time, but that certainly didn't make things less interesting.
 
Kyousuke doesn't look offended. Quite the contrary, he looks amused, an affably benevolent smile spreading across his face as he surveys the young Crab.

Makajo's laughter, though, adds a rather strained quality to the expression. He doesn't look over at Makajo, attempting to ignore her as he responds.

"Indeed!" Kyousuke says, smile still on his face. "Though I am not, of course, privy to the full details of your mission, I understand that you are to remove the gaijin as a threat. And what better way would there be than to make, if not allies of them, then at least to extend them a truce?"

He turns his head slightly to glance at Makajo. "Do you have something you wish to add, Yoritomo-san?"
 
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"I already have, Kakita-sama, small as my contribution may be," Makajo smoothly answers. "But please, do not allow one such as I to distract from the joyous celebration."
 
Shinjiro kept the scowl from his face, though it took effort. His first thought was that the Daimyo had received report of new instructions for the delegations, but Kakita Kyousuke's words explained much. It showed that the man was trying to grasp advantage of this perilous venture, hoped to shape the thoughts and impressions of the crowd to his way of thinking and thus gain prestige when success was achieved. And if failure was instead the result? Well, the man could instead say it was because none had listened to him on this day. It was a clever ploy.

But he knew his orders, and they came from one whose authority had no equal upon this base earth beneath the eyes of Heaven. This Crane lord could preen however he wished, but this fact remained as immutable as the Great Carpenter Wall itself. Shinjiro felt his annoyance die away into something resembling amusement. He was not as skilled at this game as others, but he had spend much time amongst the Crane while visiting his beloved Asahina Yasuko. That, at least, gave him some preparation.

"It is certainly not my place to criticize the wishes of others, Kakita-sama," Shinjiro responded. "So long as everyone remembers that their wishes do not supersede the mandate of the one we all must pay homage to." He rose, and forced his expression into a neutral mask. "We have our orders, and we know our duty. The Son of Heaven has seen fit to task us with fulfilling his will, and nothing will prevent us from accomplishing victory."
 
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Kyousuke smiles, razor sharp, at Makajo. "I shall not," he says, before returning his attention to Shinjiro. "Well said, Kaiu-san!" He casts his eyes around the room. "Should there be anything that I may do to expedite the task before you leave, you have but to name it," he says.

A wiry figure speaks up from the Scorpion delegation. "I didn't spend two years slaughtering gaijin in the Burning Sands to make nice with another pack of them!" The wrinkles framing the eyes of the speaker do nothing to quell the angry fire in the eyes of the older woman.
 
Koujuro winces. He enjoyed watching the tit-for-tat between his cousin Kyousuke and the muscular Mantis, all while that Crab--who actually seemed to know what he was doing--applied more and more pressure.

But Shosuro Shiawase just had to speak up.

Again, Koujuro can't blame her. Their entire clan was forced to deal with unfriendly gaijin during their exile; the memory is still fresh for many older Scorpion. Koujuro, having been an infant at the time, was spared the experience. Still, his birth parents' stories were quite vivid, and granny Shiawase's reputation had to come from somewhere.

Koujuro surmises that the elderly samurai was promised blood. Now that there's a chance she'll be denied, she might walk out.

At least, that's what Koujuro hopes will happen.
 
"I am certain it will not come to that, Shousuro-san," the younger man heading the Mantis delegation says, rising. "I have every confidence that we will utilize every tool available to us, but it is almost inevitable that we will come into conflict with the gaijin before our mission is over, the gaijin being what they are."

Dinner passes slowly as the Clans jostle for position amongst each other, trading politely veiled barbs with a smile. Finally, with the sun well and truly past the horizon, the meal draws to a close. Oil lamps light up the compound and the city beyond, the pleasant scent of plant oil wafting into the air.

The dinner closes with a final address from Kyousuke, the Kakita Lord gesturing grandly as he bids the delegations a good night. They'll have to rise early tomorrow to leave with the tides.

OoC: Feel free to mingle, or to speak with the NPCs.
 
@NormalSightMan @Winged Knight @Shironi @Rook

Shinji looks about the table, eyes looking back and forth among the few still seated at the table. The Scorpion apparently held closer to his family than himself, the boisterous Mantis, the Crab that spoke his mind and the Dragon that kept to herself. This was the group supposedly going to the gaijin lands. What a mess we are.

"So...we are it then, the group that will be leaving in the morning." He nods at each in turn, "I am Kakita Shinji." That's how this works right, everyone introduces themselves and we have a grand old time of things. Or try and punch each other senseless.
 
@Dirtnap @Winged Knight @Rook @NormalSightMan

"Coming together is a beginning. Keeping together is progress. Working together is success." Tsubasa says with a bow to her fellow samurai. "Tamori Tsubasa."

It's only as she straightnes up that she recognizes the Crab that spoke out, and the Mantis that laughed out loud number amongst the group. A dull throbbing begins to form in her temples as she fights to keep her face still.
 
"Kaiu Shinjiro," the Crab Samurai spoke out, introducing himself. He bowed to them, then leaned an elbow on the table with a cup of sake in hand. "I suppose we're all the younger ones attached to the actually important people." He grinned, lifting his cup. "So why don't we all get along?"
 
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