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Threads Of Destiny(Eastern Fantasy, Sequel to Forge of Destiny)

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Threads Of Destiny(Eastern Fantasy, Sequel to Forge of Destiny)
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First Quest, Forge of Destiny, here

Ling Qi stood at the edge of the grass grown cliff and...
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Library Workers have it Rough
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    • Library Workers have it Rough
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    Shen Wuhan grumbled to himself as he took books, scrolls, and tomes off the shelves. He carefully put these terribly old and fragile pieces of knowledge onto the cart he was pushing ahead of him. Using some qi tricks older archivists had taught him he carefully cleaned off years of dust so he could read the titles. Once the book was marginally cleaner he would write the title and location the book was found into the ledger he carried with him. When all the books on a shelf were stored and marked he would move to the next shelf. If Shen Wuhan was lucky it was simply a mind numbing process, he had not been lucky today. Shen Wuhan grimaced as he looked at the cover of the book he had dusted off. It didn't have a title on the front.


    These were the worst books. He would have to open the book up in order to check the title. Depending on how old and fragile the book was he could damage it severely just by opening it without the correct qi flows. He prepared himself and slowly cracked open the book. A small piece of paper fluttered out and landed on the cart. He leaned a little to take a closer look what the paper had written on it.


    "I've been watching you Shen Wuhan."


    Shen Wuhan gently took the piece of paper and slipped it back into the book. As he slipped the note back the book began to scream and it's pages looked far rougher, and far sharper, than parchment should be. Shen Wuhan slammed the book shut and quickly put it back on the shelf where the book began to quiet down.


    As Shen Wuhan looked at the nameless book he was able to say only one thing, "fuck." This was the third book he had found today that had been possessed by a crazed library spirit. He had already banished the other two spirits but his qi had run low. Slowly Shen Wuhan turned to look out of a nearby window making sure the book stayed in his view. The sun was almost touching the peak of the Misty Rains mountain and in a few minutes it surely would. As he turned back to the unknown book he felt the library spirit flex it's qi. He could feel the sweat that had started to form on his neck as the book stared back at him with it's blank cover. After a few minutes had passed he checked the window again. This time the sun was touching the peak.


    "What a shame," Shen Wuhan announced out loud. "My shift seems to be over." Shen Wuhan turned his library cart around and he heard the book shuffling it's cover back and forth in what sounded like a crude laugh. He heard at least two other books doing the same further down the aisle.


    "Yah, Yah," Shen Wuhan called over his shoulder. "I'll be back tomorrow though so don't get too comfortable."


    As Shen Wuhan descended he could see his fellow archivists emerging from their aisles and the night crew walking through the doors. When he passed by the history section he gave a wave to the older archivists who were busy helping to suppress a library spirit that had gained enough strength to pull a great deal of pages together. Right now it was in the form of a bear trying to maul the head archivist. Those library spirits were the worst. You couldn't simply force the spirit away because that might damage some of the pages containing precious knowledge. No, you just had to endure it's attacks as you slowly suppressed it.


    As Shen Wuhan passed through the main floor and gave his cart over to the archivist manning the front desk he turned back towards the library to observe the art taking place before his eyes.


    Great hills and valleys were being formed as books where stacked higher than a man could reach. It was a field of paper and ink that stretched before his eyes and continued deep into the shadowed aisles of the library.


    He sighed as he turned around a left the library. Being an archivist was normally a cushy job. He usually had only three tasks. Find the book. Put the book away. Suppress the odd mischievous library spirit. It was only when a fucking higer up order a fucking full audit of the library that things became hell. The library spirits that normally dozed years and years away awoke and started to defend the books they thought were being removed. Now the archivists had to fight the very books they loved so much in order to make someone who may never visit this library happy. Hopefully the audit would be done in a couple years and peace would return to this library again.


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    @yrsillar Omake for the Omake throne!

    So here is an omake since you guys liked my comments about libraries so much. Full disclosure I worked at the college library during my days as a student there. When I finally left college and thus my library job I was likely the 3rd most superstitious person on campus only being beat out by my two bosses at the library. If you are not a superstitious person when you start working at a library you will be superstitious when you stop working at the library. For example during the audit my library had to do I found a blank covered book. When I opened the book a note fell out saying "I've been watching you insertrealnamehere." I checked the book and it had last left a library in 1937. That was before my college was founded. I did not put that book on my cart. I left that book for someone else to audit.

    Please critique! It helps me become a better writer.
     
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    • That time of year
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    • That Time of Year
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    The seething, swirling chaos of the Jizhou market was nearly overwhelming to behold. Packbeasts loaded with tea bullied their way through the throng. Stands exploded with color; fruits, fabrics, and spices overflowing from every possible surface. Food carts competed with each other by releasing the most delicious of smells. Merchants of every stripe desperate to be heard raised their voices into a choir of commerce that overrode anything else.

    Xu Hai observed the chaos around him with earned experience. Since his childhood his father had brought him to observe the kaleidoscopic market. The Xu clan bought wood and sold charcoal but "a good merchant is always on the lookout for a good deal" as his father would say. When Xu Hai reached the first stop of his day he saw his eldest child and only daughter, Xu Ai, out of breath. She lit up when she saw him and starting walking rapidly towards him.

    "Dad! Dad! I am so glad I caught you so quickly! I was talking to Tang Jian and he asked me if we have any charcoal for their forges! One of the apprentices made a mistake and now they are short on charcoal for an important order! They are willing to pay extra so they can finish! Here is how much they need and will pay! We just need your stamp to start!"

    Xu Hai stamped the paper so fast his hand blurred.

    "Go! Go! Get your brother and cousin to help move it!"

    Xu Ai snatched the paper from his hand like a snake. "You can count on us Dad!" Xu Ai called back as she weaved through the crowd.

    Xu Hai smiled as he watched Xu Ai vanish into the swirling crowd. She had just turned 14 and appeared to have taken a liking to Tang Jian. Quite lucky that Tang Jian seemed to like her too. Something to keep in mind for the future. For now though it was teasing material. Xu Hai started to hum a small tune as he strolled back into the seething chaos of the Jizhou market.

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    The house was filled with noise. The noise of a happy mother making dinner. The noise of happy children playing their games. The noise of happy grandparents relaxing in their spots. The noise of a happy father as he did his final record keeping. Slowly the noises gathered together as dinner was finished and places set. Old stories where happily retold and just as happily listened to. It was three knocks on the door that silenced those noises.

    Xu Hai slowly stood from his chair. "That is strange was anyone expecting any visitors?" The whole family's questioning gazes looked around at each other. Three more knocks with same cacadance, the same sound, echoed through the house. Xu Hai moved to the door, "I am very sorry for the wait no one was expecting a visitor." As he opened the door and peered outside his blood ran cold. His heart stopped beating even as he jerkily opened the door and deeply bowed to the man outside. A man with a white jade mask and a plain black and silver robe stepped past him.

    Xu Hai struggled to keep his head bowed and stay with the man's unhurried steps. He barely saw his family's face drain of blood as they hastily stood up and greeted their new guest. With an almost lazy gesture the man pointed at Xu Ai. The a deep yet calming voice, a voice that one seemed compelled to listen to, he spoke. "You have the talent to walk the path of immortality."

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    When the walls of Jizhou disappeared from sight Xu Ai rested her head on her arms and began to sob quietly. It had been a whirlwind night of questions and answers. However she had finally decided to become an immortal. Any family would benefit from an immortal. Her dad had talked about the loans he would get to pay for her time at the sect but instead she had accepted the scholarship. She couldn't bear the thought of him ruining himself for her sake. Once her eight years were up Xu Ai promised to herself she would come back to her family. For now though thoughts of her family fading from sight was her only companion as she fitfully went to sleep.
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    @yrsillar An Omake for the Omake Throne!
    I am fairly unhappy with this one. The last two sections were a real slog to write out. This idea comes from the fact that since this is a new year that means new blood for the sect! A happy family being separated because of fate. I also have a hard time believing that anyone would choose to not become a cultivator even if they really didn't want to. Please enjoy and critique so I can become a better writer!
     
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    • Broken Wards
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    • Broken Wards and Weighty Promises

    Li Wei could still hear the crackling of embers over his quiet sobs. Night had long since descended upon his hiding place, a deep well in the middle of… what used to be home. Still, he could at least see the damp stone that created the walls of the well, which was a small comfort when surrounded by the inky blackness that permeated the rest of the cave. The damnable whispers of the spirit beasts had finally disappeared, which probably meant that they were gone. Hopefully.

    Carefully, Li Wei tugged on the rope which still held the water bucket aloft. There was a slight creaking sound, which was concerning. Looking around though, the choice was obvious. Risk a short painful fall should the rope or well cover break, or wander in the pitch blackness of the cave with no way of knowing for sure if there was a way out. Gripping the rope with an iron grip, Li Wei began climbing. It was agonizing, not knowing if a creak was the last branch that would break the well cover. Finally, with trembling and cramping hands, he gripped the rim of the well and pulled himself over onto the village grounds.

    With tear-filled eyes, Li Wei stood and looked out across the remains of his home. Shattered buildings had burned into husks of themselves, and the bodies of his neighbors were strewn about haphazardly. It was just all too surreal. These were good people! They didn't deserve to die like this!

    With a choking sob, Li Wei began to move away from the village center. There weren't enough bodies to account for the whole village, which meant that either some escaped or the spirit beasts ate them. Either way, scavengers could come for the rest, and there was no way that he could defend himself from even the lowest of spirit beasts.

    The attack had started to the west, which meant that was probably where the breach in the spirit wards occurred. That left North, South, and East as directions to go. East… East was where old man Zhang lived. He was older than even the elders, and rumor had it he was a retired officer from the city. An Immortal. If anyone would know what to do, it would be him.

    The path to Zhang's farm was easy to find, just a bit north of Li Wei's… home and heading east. It was frightening when he was younger, thinking about the gruff man who lived at the end of the path and the rumors around him, but now that boogyman was his only ray of hope. Each step on this unfamiliar trail was bringing him closer to safety, and farther away from the tragedy and violence.

    Each step also reminded Li Wei of his father, trying to fend off a monstrous wolf with merely a burning stick while his mother dragged him towards the well. He remembered with each step trying to grab his mother but failing as he plunged downward into the well. And finally, He remembered the sadness in his mother's eyes turning into a rictus of pain as a spirit beast rent her back with claws like steel. Each memory dredging up more tears from his eyes.

    Eventually, though, a glimmer of light could be seen at the end of the path. The light bobbed up and down minutely, and soon Li Wei could see a man coming towards him holding a spear and a softly glowing lantern. The man's hair was silver with age, but there was a sureness in his step that betrayed his identity.

    "Old Man Zhang?" Lie Wei croaked, his voice harsh in the stillness of the night.

    "Yes, young one. I saw the smoke from the village and dreaded the worst had occurred. Tell me, are you alone or did others survive?"

    "I'm… alone, sir. I don't know if other's survived."

    "What a tragedy," Zhang whispered, "You must be exhausted. Rest now, I shall carry you back to my home, we can discuss what to do on the morrow."

    Knodding, Li Wei stopped and began to fall forward as the last of his strength disappeared. With a step, Old Man Zhang was beside him, gently arresting the fall. Li Wei closed his eyes, and let the darkness take him.

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    The next days passed in a haze for Li Wei. There was talking, wailing, and sobbing in dark quiet corners of Old Man Zhang's home. In a few months, the trauma and shock and subsided, becoming only a quiet bubbling resolve. That never again would this happen where he lived. Then, the gates of Providence opened and an opportunity arrived.

    A man in a porcelain mask appeared on Old Man Zhang's farm and gave him the choice. To pursue the path of immortality and become as strong, if not stronger, than Old Man Zhang, or be doomed to be a mortal forever. That choice was made months ago in the center of a small destroyed village, surrounded by the blood and bodies of his neighbors and friends.

    Now, as Li Wei steps upon the cold stone of the Sect, he repeats the promise that has been resounding in his head for close to a year, "Never again."

    A/N:
    Another omake for the Omake throne. Inspired by @Neshuakadal's omake about the next round of people coming to the Great Sects. As always, criticisms and critiques are welcomed.

    @yrsillar Have an omake!
     
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    • A Nobody
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    • This is a little something that came to me a while ago and I finally got around to putting it down. I am not actually much of a writer but this just would not leave my head. Its what I image might happen to someone rather unremarkable that joins the sect.

    Shua Yan – A Nobody

    A nobody.
    That's what had been when he was still mortal. The third son of a scribe and a low ranking government official, he was one amongst a million. Doomed by upbringing to take a similar vocation. Whereas doomed might be too harsh a word. It was not as if he disliked the work, quite the opposite he enjoyed the calligraphy. The pure art of writing and drawing with a brush putting his emotions on paper.
    And there lay the crux. His parents work was not invigorating, it was paperwork plain and simple, the content boring to any teen and the notion of having to do the same chilling.
    He wanted to be a hero, to have an adventure, to be an immortal and visit all the corners of the world he had read about.

    When the examiner passed through their city and declared he had the talent he had been ecstatic. He did not mind the 8 years service it would entail, since there was no way his parents could pay for his stay at the sect. In his mind he already saw himself a mighty warrior fighting against all matter of barbarians.

    His parents however had not shared his enthusiasm, the reason come soon apparent. His grandfather on his father side had been an immortal.
    Had been the evocative term here.
    He passed away when his father was still only 7 years old. Once his father was examined to have the talent years later he chose to be a mortal, being scarred by the strife he had seen his father go through. Thus his parents pleaded him to reconsider, to avoid all the strife and pain his choice would bring.

    He thought them fools, his father especially. They did not part on the best of terms. But then it did not matter only the promise of being one of the immortals was on his mind.
    After arriving at the sect everything happened in a haze, drunk on dreams of power he awakened within a short two weeks. His new noble friends telling him how good it was inviting him into their groups. Everything was good he had made friend in noble circles and so he disregarded everyone else. He was on his way to greatness.

    Or so he thought. A few weeks in the wonder began to wear of and he realized he lacked resources to keep up his progress. He worked hard to make up for it but it was for naught since everybody else was working just as hard. Almost desperate he turned he turned to his new friends.
    And they were happy to help, if he just helped them in return. Help them take notes. Be with them to fight of competitors. At first he was just too happy to do these small things they were not much among friends after all. But small tasks soon became bigger.
    This was the point where he began to realize he was just a servant to them. He balked, but what choice did he have. He needed the resources, he had already realized did not have the talent to make it on hard work alone.

    For a time he went along with it. Until he was discarded, he was not even a servant, a was just a pawn. Worse a sacrificial pawn. Thrown away to buy time in a fight between minor nobles for perceived slights to buy his friends some time to run away. It was worse than being a nobody. Beaten he swore he would never be a pawn again, rather be a nobody.
    So for a time he struggled along.

    Then the Lady Cai came along and with here the enforcers. He signed up within the day. A chance to be someone even if just one among many, patrolling the sect. At least he had some resources to show for it. But still he struggled. On the one hand he was overtaken by street rats and criminals, people he would not have looked at again where he still mortal. They had more talent than he could ever hope to match. On the other hand nobles and rich mortals with more resources than he could ever hope to lay his eyes passed by just as fast.

    What it came down to was a simple reason. He was simply not cut out for being a fighter, he hesitated in crucial moments, he had no stomach for the brutality. He would much rather fight from a distance or not at all. Unfortunately in his daydreams of grandeur he had chosen the most aggressive and heroic seeming arts he could fight. As such the realization almost crushed him. What was a cultivator if not a heroic fighter, a bulwark to the monsters and barbarians lurking outside the borders, able to crush all in their way.

    What would he be? He already was a nobody. What was lower than a nobody? This was the first time he thought his father might have been right.
    And he thought about his parents and how he had ignored them for months. To depression came guilt and shame. Resolve formed to mend at least this mistake, for the first time in months he sat down and took up his brush meaning to write a letter to his parents explaining his foolishness, his regret.
    But when he began to write about all which had happed it was as if the brush got a life on his own. He wrote and wrote, banned his impotent rage, his crushed dreams and his conflicted feelings on paper. In the end what he created was not a letter but rather an outpouring of feelings that he had held back. He felt better then he had in weeks, and for the first time in a long while cultivating in the night did not seems such a struggle anymore. He did this more now just writing, practicing his calligraphy, his writing had been good before but now it almost seemed alive. Forgetting his troubles, ignoring all the fighting happening outside.

    That had been 4 weeks ago.

    And now here he was. Dragged out of his home by one of the few true friends he made during his brief time as an enforcer. Watching the production students present the fruits of their labor. Once again he felt like a fool. In his single minded pursuit of power, of trying to force himself along a path he was not meant for, he somehow managed to ignore an entire subset of people.
    Never had he stopped to think about where his medicines came from, who build their homes created all the wonderous things he had already gotten used to. They were not fighters. But still they carried the sects on their efforts. Ensuring it had everything its people would need.

    He had been close to giving up. Just be a nobody. But looking at them he thought "Maybe. Just maybe there is still a way for me. A way to be someone. To do something. Maybe something requiring an artful brush."
    After all if he tried again he would try with something he enjoyed. Something he was good at.
    Even if he was a year late.

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    So thats that.
    Actually I have an idea in mind as to where he could end up if he applied himself.

    I had something in mind of a cultivator using a brush and ink with special effects. A few arts I thought up.

    Inkstone Body Cultivation
    A cultivation Art created to fuel techniques using large amount of ink, fortify the users physique and give a counter to the copious amount of water based arts represented by the ink.
    It helps with physical attributes, since the creator of the art was not into body cultivation. It also gives the user a way to create (by using qi) and store ink inside their body, progressively more the higher you go in this art.
    Also when hit the user will leave his opponents weapon covered in ink with a dulling effect.
    Water / Ink / Earth(stone)

    Octopus Illusion Step
    A movement technique strongest in escaping also one of the reason why we need that much ink.
    First step would basically be like an octpus jump back and leave a cloud of ink. Ink slightly slows enemy.
    Later instead of leaving a cloud we could leave a clone. Further still lie the abilities to make the clone explode and switch places with it. Last5 step have more than one clone.
    Prohibitly expensive in qi, cost can be lowered by using ink. Hence why the inkstone art is so important
    Water / Ink / Darkness?

    Sealing Brushstroke Technique
    A technique containing several strokes that put negative effects on the target if hit. If hit with all strokes of the technique the target can be sealed for a time.
    One level per stroke the seal is the last stroke.
    Water / Ink / Wood

    Additionally I imagine him having some paper based arts as well but I have to think about that.

    I image him wearing a paper armor inscribed with ink giving him boosts. a few ink clones and 1-2 paper clones with the same augments as his armor. And charms. Lots of charms.

    I hope you enjoyed.
     
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    • Scrollmaker
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    • Scrollmaker​

    300 Years Ago, the 98th Year of Emperor An's Reign.

    A man sat in the back room of his small home on the outskirts of Dayuanpendi, seated on a short stool before a low writing desk neatly covered with a thick sheaf of blank talisman parchment and writing utensils. His trimming knife, inkstone and blotter and brushes, all arranged to be faintly lit by the only source of light in the room. A dim and dampened flame barely illuminated the man's green robes and the rest of the square room with it's well cared for walls in the chill of a Ebon Rivers morning. Square shadows hung outside the light of the fire.

    It was nearly silent except for the breathing of two people. The man and his young daughter of seventeen winters who rested beyond the flame on her pallet, sleeping peacefully. Above the man hung an unlit square paper lantern, the fire only barely illuminating the characters on it's sides and leaving them unreadable. Through the window above his daughter, through the slatted shutters, the stars were beginning to fade with the coming dawn.

    The man sighed and ran his hands over the bronze embossing of his name and title on the front of his desk. Scribe Gong Sho.

    It's the start of an old routine for the scribe. Moving carefully the man reached under his desk and gently pulled out a book, covers made of green painted wood and the parchment within thin with age. Setting it on his lap he opened it, entering a state of meditation as he turned through the pages delicately with two fingers worn with the beginning of age. His qi began to cycle and spin, flowing like words and syllables beneath his skin and to his arms.

    With a satisfied hum he found the passages on the particular prayer he had been asked to copy by the Temple of the River Song, said river which he could hear burbling sleepily through his window. The spring floods will come soon and the river liked a particular prayer slip to be on his banks in large numbers. Sho stilled in consideration, his qi flows waiting for his next desire.

    I think the slightly aged veined ink I have will do. He's expressed interest about it when I mentioned it at one point during my fishing. Sho thought, pleased by the memory.

    Moving swiftly but smoothly he closed his book and set it back in its place before reaching over his desk and flipping up the cover of his ink storage. Selecting the ink in question, it is an oily and very black ink which seems to run away from the stone when he set up his tools, full of wind and wood qi. He is not concerned by the tiny clacks of his work or the swishing noises of his robes. His wife in the outer room on their shared bed and his daughter have both expressed amused liking for the noise of his work. Smiling under his full beard he gathered his qi in his fingers and settled himself, left arm supporting his right above the paper as it grasps his small brush.

    Then he began to copy his desired prayer onto the talisman slips, spikes of warm yin water qi stabbing into the paper like needles following his brush in its rapid swish-swish course across the parchment. His hands move much faster than a mortal's as he scribed a prayer slip, placed his brush over the inkstone, moved the slip to the side to dry with his left hand, and then returned to its grip on his right, inscribing small circles with both hands as he moved rhythmically. It was all one smooth motion reminiscent of a water wheel he grew up near, constantly in productive motion.

    Soon Gong Sho could feel his cheek being warmed by the Sun and he stoped his work. One hundred and fifty prayer slips laid beside him, dry and neatly stacked. He relaxeed, setting aside his tools and packing up, letting the familiar motions ease away the lingering qi in his fingertips.

    "Murph... guh?" He looked over as his daughter pushed up on one hand and blinked sleepily at the window and then at him.

    "Morning Father." She says quietly, one hand rubbing an eye.

    "Morning Bingqing, did you sleep well?" He asked. She nodded and smiled. A quiet rustle from the outer room told him his wife Gong Chun was also awake. He heard a faint grumble from his daughter.

    "Shall we make breakfast then?" His tone was teasing. Bingqing looked at him darkly, fully awake now, before giggling and rising.

    "In a moment Father."

    The talismans rested by the now vacated seat, ready for their future use.


    Gong Bingqing had been sent by her father after breakfast and his morning tutoring, which had picked up in complexity rapidly since she had awoken to the Red Soul a month ago, to the temple. On her hip in a case she was carrying his most recent talismans. The small town in Ebon Rivers was alive all around her as she walked down the main street.

    There were people of all stripes and colors in attendance. Bright silks, wools and other cloths, with people calling out in dozens of voices, some flavored with the little dialects of distant villages and other nuances.

    "Gong! How's your morning?" A sprightly voice leapt over her shoulder and into her ear as she turned slightly and looked right. And down, to her friend, his shock of green hair all over the place and his clear brown eyes meeting her blue ones.

    "Ach, Laozi you know it's great. Wanna come with me to the temple, or are you too busy being a packmule for your mother?" Her tone was particularly acrid. Some would dare to say sardonic.

    Laozi just cackled, and shifted his large rack of pottery where it sat on his shoulders.

    "I'm good, don't fall in the river, mother wants you to come over for dinner tonight! She's doing steamed duck!" The boy had a very knowing look in his eyes. Which was answered by a greedy glint in Biangqing's eyes and a toothy grin.

    "Oh really? Well I'll see you later then. Bye!" She said, waving as she slipped away back into the crowds.

    She came to the Temple shortly thereafter and bowed to the gate guard. He let her in without a word or acknowledgement beyond a nod. There are monks working in the garden, a complicated network of irrigated herb plots, but only two or three that she could see. She wasn't sure because they have a nasty habit of being juuuust out of sight when you least expected it. Almost scared the life out of her when she was a girl of five once.

    Winding her way over the little wood bridges she headed into the temple, returning the bows any of the monks gave her when they saw her. Passing through the threshold into the central room of the temple was a relief from the heat of the day.

    The room was large enough to hold her entire small home, at least twice over. And passing through the middle of it was an almost natural seeming cleft in the stone floor through which the River Song passed, creating a subdued roar which filled the room. Seated on her knees beside that cleft was the head monk, Liao Baozhai. The woman had shaven hair high up her skull, and then let the rest of her raven hair spread over her shoulders like a shawl, highlighting the pale skin of her face.

    "Hello Honored Monk, it is Gong Bingqing from my Father." The greeting was simple and ritualistic and somewhat awkward due to it only being recently that her father sent the girl on errands as important as these deliveries.

    The head monk turned slightly and nods, smiling, which lifted a weight off the nervous girl. The elder woman waved a hand.

    "Welcome, welcome. Come with me then. How is your father?" The kindly woman asked with a quirked smile.

    "He's fine, happy as always." Bingqing says as she followed the monk left and through an archway, which opened onto a short step leading to the river's bank. On that bank were a series of very short wooden poles pounded into the soil by disciples of the temple and volunteers from the town. Hundreds of them going and going and going until the river's course curved out of sight and likely beyond that. Her father had explained before that the River Song liked to wash over them, and read them apparently. While the spirit had been "a bit unclear", in his words, he figured that it reminded the spirit of someone who it had known and was still fond of.

    Bingqing shook herself from her idle musing and hurried after Baozhai, the woman gracefully winding through the poles down to the bank of the river.

    When she caught up, Bingqing pulled off her case and set it at her feet as she followed the monk in bowing and paying respects to the river.

    Baozhai spoke. "Greetings great River Song, you continue to honor us with your healthy flows and the village is thankful for your coming floods." The monk bowed twice here and clapped her hands, which Bingqing followed. "We are thankful." They both say together, the routine well trod. Baozhai straightened up partially, while Bianqing stayed bowed, and continued to speak.

    "I come with a child bearing gifts from her father Gong Sho. Talismans which we hope you find pleasing in your mercy. May we proceed with placing them?" The woman waited for a moment, and while Bianqing heard nothing in response, the river obviously responded in the positive because Baozhai straightened and smiled.

    "Thank you great River." She said kindly as she turned and gestured for the girl to follow her to the first pole.


    When the spring floods came a month later, the River Song was quite satisfied with the gifts given. The food baskets given to his waters tasted of happiness and joy, the wines and drink swirled nicely in his body and the fish entrails made pretty patterns. But he enjoyed most the many little talismans, the knots of painted string, tiny wooden boats and the prayer slips which he spent hours reading with his friends by the light of little paper lantern boats.

    Everything came together to make his celebrations with the earth and stone spirits on his banks lively and fun, as they should be.

    All of these things he swirled over, and the village received another good flood this year. When he subsided again, his celebrations complete he left nothing but fertility and good health behind. And one water soaked talisman, which was accidentally put a little too securely, a little too high on his flood banks by a tired girl after a long day at work.

    That talisman would be found the next day by Gong Sho, and carried back to his home, where it would be pressed and dried and then set to hang on his wall amongst the many other similar talismans and scrolls. Though it had a more complicated future in store for it than most of the other writings which adorned the scribe's walls.

    @yrsillar

    Omake for the throne. I'm probably going to do a series of this.
     
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    • Scrollmaker 2
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    • Scrollmaker 2
    ​
    280 Years Ago, the 118th Year of Emperor An's Reign.

    An aged man, and across from him his grown daughter, sat in what used to be the back room of a moderately sized home in the western section of Dayuanpendi surrounded by smaller houses and new growth. Like their home, the town had grown some, filling out and adding more winding streets to itself as the years went by. Like her now white haired father the daughter had her own desk, though the tools on it were arranged in a way that set them distinctly apart. There were more square shadows on the walls now. The fire beside them was the same as always however.

    To the woman's left where there was once a window over her pallet there was a door leading into a hall and doorways leading into three new rooms. One at the far end and two across from each other on either side of the hall. From the far room the sound of two sleeping breaths, one much smaller than the other, joined the breathing of the two cultivator scribes. The front room was quieter than it used to be a decade ago. Behind the woman there was a new window, high on the wall and letting in fading starlight.

    The man sighed and ran his wrinkled and spotted hands over the bronze embossing of his desk as his daughter inhaled. With the grace of long repetition they each reached for their own books, the daughter's being thinner but bound with finely painted metal instead of wood and her father's thicker after decades of use.

    Opening to the section for spring floods their qi began to cycle and spin, rising around both of them. Stronger around the daughter than the father, and with the combination adding a distinct feel of ink to the air. That feeling sank into the fibers of the talismans on the wall, and one in particular drank it up in peaceful silence while smelling very faintly of water.

    Qi cycled down their arms, heading for the fingers of the father and the palms of the daughter. The father's hum was weaker than it was years ago, but still as satisfied as he found what he wanted. They each had different tasks so they chose different inks. Veined ink for the father, as his friend still liked it, as spirits are wont. Hearth burned ink for the daughter, because her friend had expressed interest yesterday while she recited poetry to him about it.

    Moving swiftly but smoothly they closed their books and set them back in their places before reaching over and setting up their tools. The rushing river of tiny clacks marked to their sleeping family that it was time to wake up, the day was coming. Both cultivators grabbed their right arms with their left and age had not taken anything from the wizened grandfather's steady hands.

    Setting brush to ink and ink to talisman parchment they gracefully dragged their brushes across it, yin water qi following the father in miniature spires and yin wood following the daughter in crawling roots. They each scribed a slip, placed their brush over the inkstone, moved the slip to dry and then returned to their grip on their arm. The daughter's circles were not of a water wheel, but the pinwheel loved by her young daughter.

    The Sun beaming into the back of Gong Bingqing's head told her it was time to get ready. Her father glared halfheartedly at the window as the light heated the top of his head as they relaxed and set aside their tools, packing them up. While doing so the father looked at Bingqing and snorted.

    "I still hate that window." He grumbled good naturedly. Bingqing didn't look up, quirking an eyebrow at her father's grumblings.

    "It was your idea Dad." Her voice was giggling at his expense. The elderly man just made a face at her and cackled.

    "And that gives me all the right to complain!" He said cheerily as a thump and the quiet pit-pat of little feet toddled down the hall. Emerging from the shadows was a tiny girl of four winters at best, blanket wrapped around her waist and held up by a pudgy fist as the other rubbed at her mouth.

    "Momma? Grampa?" The little girl was clearly still mostly asleep as she sat next to her mother, legs out beneath the blanket.

    "Good morning Shui. Did you sleep well?" Bingqing asked gently as she rubbed her daughter's shoulders.

    The little girl nodded. "Yep!" She seemed more awake now.

    Gong Sho looked on with complete and utter satisfaction in his expression, long white beard nearly quivering with happiness.

    "Shall we make breakfast then?" His tone was teasing. Bingqing giggled, and his granddaughter nodded rapidly, setting her braids to flopping in her face.

    The talisman behind the little girl which always smelled of water presided over this event serenely.


    Gong Bingqing was walking through the main street outside their home with her partner at her side, He Chang lending her shade against the sun with his height and the tall case he carried on his back which matched her own. Though it was less shade than it could be considering how much like a whip he was.

    Turning from musing on her lover's form she refocused on their goal, a small glade of trees outside Dayuanpendi which the River Song passed through on it's way west. To her senses the glade was whispering quietly as they passed beneath the boughs of three entwined trees, one of them home to a sentinel of sorts if she wasn't mistaken. While she did not quite catch what they said, she expected it was a message to their mother tree. Chang was not aware of this interplay, but was calm anyway, his demeanor usually unflappable after four years raising an energetic daughter who insisted on going on adventures with him in tow.

    The path was winding, and after around half of an hour they found their goal, or at least the preceding sign of their goal if the voices coming from the clearing up ahead were any indication.

    "Carefully honey!" A man's voice rang out from the trees and was answered by a gleeful feminine cackle.

    "I'll be fine! Quit worrying Laozi!" Was the woman's delighted response.

    When Bingqing emerged with Chang beside her they saw her old friend Dequan Laozi carefully supporting his partner Ah Ren as she sat on top of his shoulders to paint the top of a clay pillar inscribed with formations set besides the rushing course of the river, her long brown hair messily mixing with her husbands. Unlike her friend Bingqing, Ren's hair was beginning to go grey at the roots, though she was as lively as ever.

    Both the newcomers couldn't help but grin at the antics of the painter and her sculptor.

    "I see you two are having fun." Chang's voice was highly amused.

    Laozi glanced over. "Chang my friend, we are. Almost done though and then we have to go home for dinner. Want to come over? Ren here misses your daughter."

    Bingqing broke out in full-hearted laughter. "You joker, you just want to spoil her!" She got out between laughs, soon joined by Ren as she messed with Laozi's hair.

    "He really does. Don't you 'Uncle Laozi'?" Her voice was merciless with it's teasing.

    Laozi crushed a hand to his chest, expression melodramatic. "You wound me, all of you. Terrible friends. Just, utterly, utterly, terrible." Shaking his head solemnly he couldn't help the grin on his face.

    Then he looked back at his friends. They both nod.

    "Excellent. We'll see you tonight then!" Laozi says, waving as he helped Ren off his shoulders and then down another path, laughing all the way.

    Chang and Bingqing hold it in for a moment, before they just burst into giggles.

    Eventually, after several minutes of merriment the giggles go away and they continue to their goal, which is found at the end of a little side path through the other side of the clearing. It lets out close to the rushing river but is dominated by a massive willow tree.

    It is a tree spirit, the mother tree, gifts of pottery strewn at her feet and little lanterns and incense. The tree utterly dwarfs these gifts however, rising several men high in the air and so thick that four people couldn't touch hands around its trunk. The roots are as thick as Bingqing's torso, and some crawl out to hang in the river like steps or hands.

    Both people knelt as the attention of the tree landed on them, Chang following his partner's lead. The attention is curious and gleeful to Bingqing's senses. Removing the cases they opened them to reveal stacks of talismans in reddish hearth burned ink for happiness and good luck.

    Oh, how kind of you Bingqing.

    The tree's voice is soft in Bingqing's ears, but so full of joy it feels several times louder.

    The woman bowed her head. "You do me honor Mother Lian. We would not have good lives without your care and love and no homes without your children. You provide for us from yourself."

    "Thank you." Both humans said in sync, kowtowing before the willow tree, which creaked softly, the shade shifting above them as it moved.

    You are welcome Bingqing. Is your seedling well?

    The woman rose slightly and noded. "Gong Shui is well indeed. Full of energy and life."

    Good, this pleases me. Come, hang your gifts on my branches.

    Smiling happily at the spirit's acceptance Bingqing waited while the branches lower to head height in a great cascade of creaks and groans. The work "decorating" the tree goes swiftly with her assistance.


    When the spring floods came a month later, the Mother Lian was quite satisfied with the gifts given. She got to show off her new hair arrangement to her lover the River Song, and he loved it almost beyond words. He shared with her all the little gifts the humans gave to him, the knots of painted string, tiny wooden boats, and fruit and drink and oh so much else.

    Everything came together to make this year's celebrations as great and lively and fun as they were last year, as they should be. Though Mother Lian thought privately that they were even better this time around and hoped that they would be as good next year.

    All of these things came together to give the village a good flood and a good year, the satisfaction of the spirits traveling on currents of qi through the town. Said currents often passed through a particular talisman on the wall of a particular scribe family's home, and it drank that qi greedily, finally tipping over a critical point. While not anything solid, the qi it drank lingered in the talisman now for a time before passing through it, flavored by its passage. This change would provide the basis for all of it's future growth.

    @yrsillar Omake for the throne!

    Hmm, well I said this was about the talisman, but this omake really just came out to be about the Gong family. Which you know what, is totally okay, because when that talisman awakens it basically will be a Gong family member.
    Adhoc vote count started by BungieONI on Dec 3, 2018 at 9:21 PM, finished with 190 posts and 114 votes.
    Click to expand...

    Adhoc vote count started by BungieONI on Dec 3, 2018 at 9:41 PM, finished with 193 posts and 116 votes.
    Click to expand...

    Adhoc vote count started by BungieONI on Dec 3, 2018 at 9:41 PM, finished with 193 posts and 116 votes.
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    • The Letter
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    • The Letter Carried News and Hope

    Yu Baozhai leaned forward and peered at her reflection in the mirror. Carefully looking at her face Yu Baozhai ensured that the tear stains and bags which always appeared after a rough night with clients were cleverly concealed with the skillful application of her makeup. Sighing, she stood up and smoothed out her dress. Hopefully, this evening wouldn't be as rough as last. Grabbing the small clay cup near her, Yu Baozhai drained the last dregs of the bitter herbal tea. It wouldn't do to become like poor Ling Qingge.

    The clatter and chatter of her mother could be heard in the kitchen, and periodically the sound of her father splitting wood would resound from the garden. It was time to get moving, after all, there were chores to be done and a family to support. Making her way downstairs, Yu Baozhi greeted her mother politely and begun the preparations for lunch. It was simple rice with dumplings, her younger sister's favorite.

    Glancing up, her mother quietly asked, "Dear, would you please grab your sister? Lunch will be ready soon and she still hasn't gotten up."

    "Yes Mother, I'll make sure she wakes up and is decent for lunch."

    Yu Baozhai always found waking up her sister to be difficult, and it was tedious getting her dressed and cleaned. However, no matter how difficult and tedious it was, allowances should be made to the sick. Especially if they are family. Walking quickly to the bedroom, Yu Baozhai opened up the curtains and let light pour down on the girl ensconced in blankets.

    Gently prodding her, Yu Baozhai murmured, "It's time to get up Yu Chen. The day is in full swing and the birds are singing."

    Slowly Yu Chen was roused, and then the coughing began. Yu Baozhai got some water for her sister and began helping her get dressed and washed. By the time they were done, lunch was ready and father had come in. Sitting at the table with family was a simple joy for Yu Baozhai, and she treasured it, despite what little time it actually was. After all, there were errands to run that couldn't wait, and today was the time of the month to get Yu Chen's medicine. Once lunch was done, Yu Baozhai excused herself and headed out into the streets to complete the errands.

    The market was lively this time of day. Filled with merchants hawking their wares and the press of people making bartering and arguing. Yu Baozhai strode purposefully through the crowd pressing against the mass of people in between her and the physician's building. Finally breaking through the crowd, she slid open the door and crossed the threshold of the building. It was well lit from small paper lanterns around the edges of the room, and sitting behind the counter was Weng Chen, the physician's assistant.

    Upon her entering the shop, Weng Chen stood up and greeted her, "Greetings Yu Baozhai, what can I assist you with today?"

    "I'm here for the usual Weng Chen, what the doctor prescribed for my sister's ailment."

    Smiling a little sadly, Weng Chen nodded and moved to the back of the store to procure the regular medicine and herbs. Moving towards the waiting area, Yu Baozhai sat down and waited patiently for Weng Chen to return. The physician didn't seem to know exactly what caused Yu Baozhai's sister to cough and gasp for air at even the lightest excursion, but there were some medicines that helped alleviate the suffering. Expensive though, very expensive. In the darkest corners of her mind, Yu Baozhai sometimes wondered if it was worth it, that life would be better for everyone if her sister just suffered through this illness without the medicine so that the family could be prosperous again.

    But those thoughts only came during the bad nights, the nights where the only comfort and solace she had was that she was not alone in this suffering and that the suffering had a purpose. At least her younger sister would be able to live a fairly normal life, and if she was lucky could be married to a wealthy merchant who would be able to take care of her. One could dream. And if one was dreaming, then maybe she could find a man who would not scorn her for the profession she had taken to provide for her family, a man who would carry her out of this wretched city and provide for her family along the way?

    With a snort, Yu Baozhai let the idle dreams drift away. Reality was harsh and had no time for the idle dreams of young women. Soon enough Weng Chen came back with a small bag of herbs, and Yu Baozhai was on her way, back through the crowded marketplace. The press of humanity was lessening as the shoppers took their purchases back to their residences to prepare for the evening meal, but it was still a chore to push through.

    Eventually, she found herself in front of a small house, looking like it had been abandoned for months. It had used to belong to Ling Qingge, but one morning she had suddenly disappeared with hardly any warning. Something vague about going to live with family, or something. What had happened to Ling Qingge, that she had left in such short notice? It was a shame that young Biyu prevented her from getting any income from her profession, but things had started looking up for her when she had started receiving a stipend from a mysterious benefactor. Maybe Ling Qingge had been able to attract a wealthy gentleman to take care of her? Probably not, the departure likely had to do with those curs that Ling Qingge kept complaining about. The problems that came when there was money but no family to protect it. Ahh well, the day was not getting younger, and there were still things to do at home before work in the evening.

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    Stepping over the threshold of her home, Yu Baozhai noticed something was off. An unfamiliar voice was present in a quiet murmur of polite conversation from the dining room. A guest had come calling, which was unusual. Taking off her shoes, and smoothing her dress, Yu Baozhai readied herself for the niceties and the excuses needed to deflect attention from what her job actually was.

    Stepping forward into the light, she bowed and introduced herself to the guest, "Greetings, I am Yu Baozhai. I hope that my family has been hospitable towards you."

    The stranger paused, lowered his drink, and stood. Only then did Yu Baozhai notice the robes that signified him as being a member of the Ministry of Communication. He politely bowed in turn and handed her a letter.

    "Your family has been very hospitable towards me, Yu Baozhai. However, it is not mere happenstance that I grace your family's home. I was instructed to come and personally deliver a letter to you from the Southern Emerald Sea's Ling Clan. Read it at your leisure, I believe that should you wish to respond there will be instructions in the letter to do so. Thank you all for your time, but duty calls and I must be on my way."

    With that, the man bowed again to her and her family. Then he simply walked out of the house with hardly a glance back. Looking at her family, Yu Baozhai made a decision. She bolted upstairs and closed the door to her bedroom. The only Ling she knew was Ling Qingge, but she had been gone for months now. Why was Ling Qingge writing now?

    The letter weighed heavily in Yu Baozhai's hand as she sat on her bed, alone in her room for the time being. The paper was the finest she had ever seen or felt and it was sealed with crimson wax. It was hard to believe that this letter came from Ling Qingge, it was far beyond what she could afford before. With great care, Yu Baozhai broke the seal and then began reading the message contained within. Halfway through the words and tears were already brimming in her eyes. A great weight lifted from Yu Baozhai, a weight that she had forgotten had existed. Emotions rose and fell like tidal waves until all that was left was a numb relief and a spark of hope. There was no question in her mind. She was going to go and serve in a cultivator's household. She was going to serve an immortal, those of stories and legends who guarded the Wall and held back the endless hordes of Cloud Barbarians from coming and devastating the land. She would have to thank all of the spirits for their generosity and kindness towards her, and while Yu Baozhai would miss her family at least this way they would be able to live in comfort for the rest of their days and her sister wouldn't have to worry about affording the medicine she needed.

    A/N: This omake has been difficult for me to write in parts. The middle sections involving waking up Yu Baozhai's sister and receiving the letter especially. Oh well, it is over and done with now. Critiques and criticisms are welcomed and I hope you enjoy the read. @yrsillar another omake for the throne.
     
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    • A Scholar Meeting a Fisherman
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    • A Scholar meeting a Fisherman
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    The gentle chirping of birds was the first sound Ping Chao heard as he roused himself from his nap. He gazed over at the notes and lesson plans he had been preparing the evening before. The truce in the outer sect would end soon and that meant the new blood would soon be able to take formation lessons. While his peers might look down on such work Ping Chao found it a satisfying way to gather contribution points. Padding quietly over to his locked bookshelf he began his weekly tradition. Without much effort he undid the security formations on the bookcase and pulled out his pride and joy. A lovely pale green cover with dark green formations etched into it. With a flick Ping Chao opened it up and started reading the rumors and gossip transcribed into the pages that his hidden formations had picked up around the mountains.


    As he read the book Ping Chao started to feel his blood boil. It seemed the latest round of rumors were about him and how he lacked any fighting spirit. This was simply slanderous! He, of the Ping family, lacking fighting spirit! He may not be as martial inclined as his older brother but this could not stand! Hastily he put the book back and walked back towards his office. Without thought his domain reached out and started to pull the books he wanted towards him. It was time to teach his peers about how much fighting spirit he had.


    Deep in a mediation he almost missed the qi of a messenger delivering a notice. As the piece of paper floated towards him the information on the page made Ping Chao's blood boil again. The paper stated that Zhan Bo had issued a challenge to Ping Chao. Ping Chao had known Zhan Bo was rude but to not even speak to him about the challenge! Did Zhan Bo have so little consideration? With great effort Ping Chao calmed himself. This was a good opportunity though. By defeating Zhan Bo he would prove his fighting spirit and crush these rumors. With that goal in mind different books came off the shelves and those floating around him went back to their places.


    Ping Chao frowned at the information that surrounded him. Zhan Bo had apparently been getting a reputation as a skilled duelist through his duels in the the last year. The first duel he did this year showed that none of that skill had vanished. This was more and more feeling like a trap. Zhan Bo had certainly heard the rumors about him and decided to take advantage. If the duel lasted long Zhan Bo would gain the advantage with his greater experiences with duels. If Ping Chao choose a challenge he was certain to win the rumors would never die. The pride of the Ping family would never allow that. As he tapped his brush against his jaw Ping Chao knew what the duel had to be. A duel to first blood would allow him to finish it quickly before Zhan Bo could leverage his greater fighting experience. Ping Chao wrote out his response to the challenge he began to sense an old book starting to open. With a sigh he sent calming thoughts to his spirit. His mood, apparently, was poor enough that his spirit had started to react to it. With gentle thoughts he guided his library spirit back to it's calm sleep.

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    "We begin now the challenge between Disciple Seven Hundred Twenty Six, Zhan Bo, and Disciple Seven Hundred and Seventeen, Ping Chao. In accordance with Sect rules, Disciple Ping Chao has chosen a challenge of a personal duel to first blood. The duel will begin on my mark."


    Ping Chao watched with half lidded eyes as Zhan Bo slid into a ready stance with his spear. A pulse of the Elder's qi marked the start and Ping Chao started to walk steadily towards his opponent. With a flick of his wrist two of his books appeared and began to slowly circle him. A small smile from Zhan Bo was his only warning before he felt Zhan Bo's domain latch onto him and try and push him closer. It felt like he was in a river being driven towards the waiting spear of Zhan Bo. Without so much as a thought Ping Chao counter attacked. Bolts of lightning flashed from his books as they stopped circling him and began to try and flank Zhan Bo. Without moving his feet Zhan Bo began to expertly deflect the brilliant attacks with a blurring spear. With the light of the heavens illuminating the battlefield Ping Chao watched the dance of spear and lightning and prepared a separate attack. The best time would be... PAIN.


    "Disciple Zhan Bo wins this duel by right of first blood. Rank transfer will occur on the first day of the next month."


    Ping Chao stood as he set his glare at the meter long fishing spear so soaked in lake qi he could barely see it even as it dripped with his blood. With a grunt Ping Chao reached up to his shoulder and pulled the domain weapon the rest of the way through his shoulder. After he that did a quick bow towards Zhan Bo. "You are truly a good duelist, Zhan Bo. To draw one towards you and then to strike them from behind, it is an… interesting dueling style."


    Zhan Bo offered a quick bow in return. " The best way to catch a fish is to offer bait and then strike quickly from where they can not see."

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    As Ping Chao walked home he could still feel the humiliation of such a quick defeat. He was sure rumors and gossip of how poor a fighter he was were going to quickly spread. It looked like he would need to spend a great deal of time in the future working on his combat formations if he was going to redeem any amount of his pride. As he quietly closed the door behind him books began to rise and greet him as old friends. As Ping Chao strode through his home he promised himself, revenge would come.

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    @yrsillar An omake for the omake throne!

    This was an idea of a possible duel between other inner sect members and perhaps why a primary formations focused cultivator may choose a personal duel. Pride cometh before the fall. Please enjoy and if you have any critiques or advice please share so I might improve!
    Thank you Yrsillar and everyone else for a wonderful quest to read and participate in!
     
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    • Twisted Caverns
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    • The Twisted Caverns

    The light filtered in gently through the curtains and played across the silk hammocks. Small skeletal mice quickly darted here and there with ingredients and reagents to be used in the making of some cultivation pills. That was the last thing on Li Suyin's mind, however. Instead, it was a particularly troublesome problem with the formation work needed to produce better fine motor control for the metal filament project. It felt almost right, that a single change in the control structure would show drastic improvement overall. Finding that one formation though… that was proving much more troublesome. Hopefully the entire control system wouldn't need to be scrapped.

    With a small huff, Li Suyin stood up and stretched. This was going nowhere. Perhaps it was better to save it until she had finally breached into the Green realm. If only there was more time in the day to cultivate, but with all the other projects to work on, and job orders to fill out, there was precious little time left. Soon though, there would be even more work to be done. Just thinking about the potential held in that defiled chasm caused her imagination to sore! The things that could be done with better cores, better samples, and a better understanding of how that place came to be would allow innovations with far-reaching ramifications. Even still, months after her demonstration in the Outer Sect tournament, there was poorly concealed interest in the Argent Web Pills and the Impurity Devourer. But both of those were simply stepping stones for what advancements could come.

    Li Suyin stopped and shook her head. It was… much too early for such dreams and fantasies at the moment. There was more pressing work to be done. More immediate objectives to fulfill. Stepping by the furnace, Li Suyin quickly checked to see if the pills were properly forming. No defects so far, and so she moved on to the meditation chambers. It was dreadfully boring doing calisthenics with specific qi exercises to progress in her physical cultivation, but it was better than leaving the pills unattended.

    Time always seemed distorted when she cultivated her physical cultivation. Some days it went by quickly and painlessly. Other days it felt like time became molasses, stuck slowly moving in agonizing instances of pain and discomfort. Li Suyin felt that today was one of the bad days. For some reason, the proper focus for this type of cultivation was difficult and fleeting. There one moment and gone the next. And then it all snapped when she felt Zhenli's message. Some folded paper had floated into her home and had gotten stuck on some of the silk hammocks and was now simply resting there.

    Which was interesting, as there were no letters expected at the moment. With a couple final stretches, Li Suyin exited the chamber and quickly made her way over to the letter. Possibly an urgent request? Hopefully not, there was no spare time for other orders at the moment. Grabbing the sheaf of papers, Li Suyin noted that it was an official missive from the Argent Sect. Cracking the wax seal, she quickly read through the contents, and by the end of it, she was grinning. The paperwork was done, and the next time Li Suyin ventured into those twisted caverns, Ling Qi could be right beside her.

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    It had taken a few days to arrange a mutually acceptable time, but now the hour before departure was fast approaching. Li Suyin frantically worked her furnace to finalize some of the precautionary safety pills that would prevent the environment of the caverns from poisoning them. The sounds of scuttling mice resonated throughout her abode as Zhenli directed them to place pills and containers in proper locations. Her two skeletal guardians were already packed into the transportation pills, and a variety of other skeletal tools were packed inside her harness and pack. The bottles and vessels for delivering fresh air to poison the more dangerous creatures likely to be encountered were packed as well, safely secured and ready for a quick throw to deploy them.

    Not a moment too soon, the pills finished and were quickly packed by the scurrying mice. After taking a quick look around to make sure nothing was out of place, Li Suyin donned the harness and pack, letting Zhengli hop in for the ride. It was time. The furnace was turned off, the workbench empty of fragile time-sensitive formations. All of the mice were now completely silent, still, and organized in rows around the room awaiting the next order. Li Suyin now rapidly moved to the meeting location.

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    With a startled cry, Li Suyin felt herself suddenly pulled backward as the ground beneath her shattered and fell into the gaping maw of a dimly outlined beast. Landing on the shifting sands forming the sloping sides of the sudden sinkhole, she felt the beginnings of trepidation. The beast seemed to be in the third realm which was a problem, there shouldn't be any creature of its size or strength at this level of the caverns. The thing inhaled, and she had to brace to prevent herself from sliding downwards and being consumed like those fungal lizards. At least her skeletal guard didn't fall close enough to the thing to be consumed, that would have been disastrous.

    Then the beast shrieked, and a powerful weight pressed on her, trying to drag her into the center of the pit. Ling Qi darted in front of her for a moment and Li Suyin felt the surety and solidarity of a forest coat her and try to break the weight pressing down on her. It didn't work. As quick as a shadow, Ling Qi darted towards the beast, passing the skeletal guard and beginning to play. Heat spiraled towards Ling Qi only to disappear and even Li Suyin felt a sudden chill at the onslaught of the cold.

    There was nothing Li Suyin could do about the heavy qi pulling her inwards, but that didn't mean she was helpless. Directing her guards to begin the climb up towards her, she dug her heels into the sandy slope to slow her inexorable descent. Plucking one of the prepared fresh air canisters from its place in the harness, Li Suyin chucked it towards the center of the beast. The trick seemed to work, as the beast shrieked in pain as the fresh air began poisoning its flesh.

    Finally, the skeletal guard reached her, and she directed the Bear Guard to plant its shield in the slope and extend the shield, forming a sort of brace. Meanwhile, the Boar Guard had thrown its chained guando into the ceiling to create an anchor of sorts while fusing one of its arms to the Bear Guard's collar creating a protective cage which wasn't moving under the weight of the earth qi.

    And just in time too! The beast curled up and launched a plethora of needles. Most of them puttered around harmlessly around her impromptu cage, a few hit the Bear Guard's shield, but one flew straight into the cage and struck her with staggering force. The sheaf of veridian qi protecting absorbed the blow and shattered in the process. Which was bad, another hit like that would likely end the expedition.

    Li Suyin sent one of her skeletal crows which held a rusting agent out to die against the beast. There had seemed to be some metal winding around its exoskeleton, which should rust and crack when the agent came into contact with it. The creature really was a fascinating specimen, even it was trying to eat Ling Qi at the moment.

    Soon enough though, the beast succumbed to the poison winding in its system and Ling Qi's powerful blasts of winter's cold. Which was good, the longer the fight dragged on the more chance that the ceiling would have collapsed given the beasts use of earth qi to drag everything towards it. At least there were a sizeable amount of materials and a proper third realm core!

    A/N: Well here is an omake about what I think this adventure looks like from Li Suyin's perspective. Also, another omake for the omake throne @yrsillar. It's been a while since I finished an omake, so I'm glad that I got this one out. Wish I could have gotten it out before this update, but ah well. It is a pleasant surprise to get an official chapter so early after the vote.

    As always, feel free to critique and comment. I hope you all enjoy!
     
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    • Winter's Wrath
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    • Winter's Wrath

    Su Ling stooped low over the cooling corpse of a Black Steel Bear. With careful precision, she made a small incision in the fur and began cutting through the meat to get to the core that lay within. It was tedious work, work that had been completed a thousand times before. And so she let her focus wander, letting her senses keep track of her surroundings so that a scavenger couldn't surprise her.

    Sensing nothing around her, Su Ling continued her work until the familiar curve of the core could be felt. With a grunt of effort, the core was dislodged and gently pulled out of the bear's remains. A medium grade, second level core. Nothing spectacular, but it would be a decent reagent for a couple of the more common pills and elixirs. Or a snack if she was getting particularly peckish.

    Dividing up the remainder of the bear for easy carrying would be a pain. If Ma Lei or Ma Jun had been here, then it wouldn't have been so bad, but apparently, there was a special training session with Gan Guangli so that his "soldiers" would be ready for the end of the first year truce. The plan wouldn't work, nobody could be everywhere at once. Not even a group. Besides, thinking about the first year truce brought up bitter memories, memories of helplessness as Li Suyin's eye was gouged out.

    With a shake of her head, Su Ling refocused on the task at hand. As she bent down to begin skinning the beast, a thrum of alarm echoed in her mind as her companion became agitated about something. At the same time, her breath became a cloud plume as the temperatures plummeted. Suddenly, spirit beasts were racing past her, down the mountain's slope. Even some yellow realms spirits tore around her, heedless of the prey all around. Looking up quickly revealed the source of the panic, a large spiraling cloud rested at the peak of the Outer Sect Mountain. It was darker than any cloud she had seen, and even at this distance, she could feel the weight of the qi in the storm and hear the screaming winds.

    Something about the peak jogged her memories. Wasn't the peak where… Ling Qi sometimes disappeared to? With a flick of her qi, Su Ling began her divination technique. All she could get from it though was… darkness and cold coming from the peak. No shit. Glaring at the bear's corpse which was rapidly frosting over, Su Ling made her decision. She turned around and ran down the slope of the mountain, back towards her home in the Outer Sect.

    Whatever this shit was it was Ling Qi's fault. First that bastard of a shaman and now this. Trouble always seemed to find her, one way or another. But there was nothing Su Ling could do to help Ling Qi now. All she could do was try and weather the storm.

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    Gan Guangli stood to the side of the acquired drill yard, watching his enforcers drill basic fighting skills. Some of the more advanced soldiers were doing practice engagements as groups in another yard, honing teamwork and understanding of how each other fought. But he oversaw the training of the weakest members of his enforcers, to give them an example to strive for and to be a constant reminder that it is the weakest link which breaks the chain. The end of the first year truce was fast approaching, and his enforcers needed to be a solid bulwark against the machinations of the foul Lu Feng.

    Something was off, however. The air was growing abnormally dark for noon and it was gaining a chill that was out of place for the season. Looking up, Gan Guangli saw the peak of the Outer Sect mountain shrouded in an ever-expanding storm of ice and snow. Dark and forbidding, he could faintly hear the screeching winds which seemed to be churning the clouds like a fluid in a bubbling cauldron. Already the enforcers who had the pleasure of experiencing Baroness Ling's training were activating spiritual defense arts. Which, given the strength of the storm was mostly a futile gesture, but it was good to know that Baroness Ling's instruction was still being heeded.

    Already the storm was growing in severity, and the chill was increasing. Dismissing his enforcers for the day, Gan Guangli turned and began moving towards the group training yard. Without knowing how dangerous the storm was going to become, the prudent option was to return to the Outer Sect buildings and wait out the storm, or until the Elders gave further instructions. Something about Baroness Ling and the Outer Sect Peak jogged his memory. Didn't Baroness Ling mention once that she had trained at the peak of the Outer Sect?

    Ah well, she had made it into the Inner Sect, and there was very little reason for an Inner Sect member to visit the Outer Sect before the end of the first year truce. It was most likely a powerful spirit acting up which the Elders would handle in due time. Nothing that Baroness Ling would be involved in. But the thought did not leave him, the thought that Baroness Ling was somehow involved in creating this storm. After all, she had destroyed Yan Renshu's operation, a cultivator solidly in the green realm, in a single night while merely a yellow cultivator. Now that she had entered the inner sect and was fully in the green realm... what other chaos could she cause?


    A/N: @yrsillar an Omake for the Omake throne! This is my take on what could be Su Ling's and Gan Guangli's reactions to the superstorm that is brewing above the outer sect. It was inspired by this quote from @yrsillar on Discord
    Also yeah you can kinda assume that the lil outer sect people are probably having a bit of a freakout, due to the superstorm now brewing at the peak
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    I hope you enjoy the read, and as always, I welcome critiques and criticisms!
     
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