A character thread for Nine-Swords Rikuto.  Usual rules apply.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:32, Tue 10 Nov 2015.

Nine-Swords Rikuto
Dawn Caste (Banner: A bastet paragon avatar emanating coruscating wings flowing with silver.)
Attributes: Primary Physical / Secondary Social / Tertiary Mental
STR 3 / DEX 5 / STAM 3 // CHA 3 MAN 2 APPR 4 // PERC 3 INT 1 WITS 4

Skills
Caste: Awareness 2/3, Brawl 3, Dodge 3 (Tumbling), Melee[S] 3/5 (Swords), Resist 2
Favored: Athletics 3/4 (Acrobatic), Perform 3/4 (Dance), Stealth 2, Integrity 1/2, Presence 1/2
Other: Investigation, Lore, Medicine 1, Occult 1, Socialize 2, Survival 2, War
[-7 BP on skills]

Merits (10)
Artifact 5 [S] (thousand-year daiklave)
Tail 2 [I] (+2 to maintain balance, prehensile limb at -1 offhand penalty, obvious cat tail)
Ambidextrous 1 [I] (no penalty with off-hand)
Quick Draw 1 [I] (Melee, no Defense penalty with the draw/ready weapon action)
Contacts 1 [S] (ScavLands tribal beastfolk)
Language 1 [P] (Riverspeak)
Possible: Artifact 4 [S] (Silken Armor), Fleet of Foot 4 [P] (+1 to footspeed rolls), Fast Reflexes 3 [P] (+1 to Join Battle rolls), Resources 1 [S] (renowned performer), Tempered by the Elements 2 [P] (move through thick jungle at normal speed)
[-1 BP on merits]

Charms (16 - ES, OWTB, PBT, IWA, FaSS | DSD, SC, CtB, SWA, SAP | SAM, MPE, GRD, BDM, OBT | GCS)
Melee
Excellent Strike (3m): Gain 1 auto success on uniform attack, reroll all 1's.

Fire and Stones Strike (1m/die or 1m/success, ES): On withering, up to (Str) motes before making an attack yields that many post-soak damage dice, to increase minimum damage.
On decisive, spend up to (greater of E or 3)m for that many extra raw damage successes.

One Weapon, Two BLows (3m, ES): Immediately after a withering which lowers their Init below yours, unleash a second attack, withering or decisive.
Peony Blossom Technique (1m, 1wp, 3a, OWTB): At bonfire, make an additional attack on your turn, expelling your anima in the attack and returning to dim.
Iron Whirlwind Attack (5m/1wp, simple, PBT): Alone or reflexively after PBT, split Init to make a series of 3 decisive attacks directed at 1+ targets. Each must have at least 1 Init devoted, and you do not reset to base Init after these attacks (but lose 2i per on a total miss.) Pay once for the costs of attack-enhancing Charms to apply to all 3 hits, pay excellency on each.

Dipping Swallow Defense (2m): Ignore all non-surprise penalties to parry, and gain 1i per attack parried.
Solar Counterattack (3m, DSD): Applied on any parry, the solar counterattacks after their attack but before their damage roll, as a regular decisive attack, not to cost a combat action or counter another counterattack.

Call the Blade (1m): Roll (Wits + Melee) diff 4 to retrieve a weapon at up to short range in an instant; failure, and it must traverse intervening space for this turn.

Athletics
Graceful Crane Stance (3m, scene): Gain perfect balance, stand/run on surfaces too narrow/weak to support her, never fall or break through. Perform many feats of dexterity.

Awareness
Sensory Acuity Prana (5m, scene): Gain double 9's on awareness rolls.
Surprise Anticipation Method: On awareness to reveal sources of harm, 9's grant 1m and 10's grant 2m for purposes of awareness charms, even retroactively vs. committed.

Performance
Masterful Performance Exercise (2m): Performance gains one auto success, reroll 1's, and 1's can't be used to interfere with the performance.
Graceful Reed Dancing (1m, MPE): Dance gains double 9's.
Battle-Dancer Method (1m, GRD): While dancing, add 2 to Parry/Evasion, and Resolve when solo.

Resistance
Ox-Body Technique: Adds

Evocations: Conquering the Forms (E1, 3m, reflexive, scene; Flame +4dmg; Piercing -4Asoak; Flexible -fulldef; arrow frog venom 3i/rd/5rds Lcrash; Smashing KB one band / prone; one non-charm success on attack vs. CoD; -1 foe defense)

Gear yo
Medium Melee Sword of Creation (Acc +3, Dmg +12L, Def +1, Ow 4, Attune 5)
Medium Melee scimitar (Acc +2, Dmg +9L, Def +1, Ow 2)
Light Melee whip sword (Acc +4, Dmg +7L, Def +0, Ow 1, ignores Defense from fulldef)

Light chain shirt (Soak +3, Mobil -0, Hard 0)

Intimacies
Defining Tie: Realm ("Vengeful Rage" / Hatred)
Major Tie: Kitari Five-Fables (Mixed Feelings)
Major Tie: Slavers (Hatred)
Major Principle: "Nobody should have to suffer as I suffered [the loss of a loved one.]"
Major Principle: "It is my dream to spread trust in the Solar Exalted."
Major Principle: "My circlemates are the key to fostering a brighter dawn."
Minor Tie: The Sword of Creation ("Honor" / Respect)
Minor Tie: Beastfolk ("Understanding" / "Community")
Minor Principle: "Nobody has a right to deface art. Especially good art."
Minor Tie: Venali [Goddess of Stem] (Awe)
Minor Tie: Volfer (Respect)
Minor Tie: Perfect Soul (Mixed Feelings)
(Minor Principle: "The God-Emperor must be obeyed.")


Limit Trigger: I am unable or unwilling to protect an innocent, under my charge or otherwise needing my aid, who suffers an injustice.

Essence 1 (Personal 13, Peripheral 33)
Willpower 5
Health Levels
 | | | | | | |
-0 -1 -1 -2 -2 -4  Incapacitated
 1  2  3  4  5  6  7

Anima (sunrise):
1m: learn time of day
1m: display Caste Mark
Bonfire/Iconic: Add half Essence (round up) to base Init upon resetting after successful decisive attack.
10m (1/day): Reset all combat/movement Charms with outstanding reset conditions
Passive: Add half Essence (round up) to intimidating social influence, may intimidate targets who do not feel fear.

[Not quite complete.]
This message was last edited by the player at 02:19, Thu 18 Feb 2016.

[tl;dr, it was a long and hazy night, full of awesome and eventful stuff we already experienced, but from Rikuto's perspective a lot of it was just going with the course of the evening and paying little mind, until the morning told of regrets, plans, and a call to get down to serious business.]

"I yield." Kurogasa sheathed his shadow-edged katana and turned from the Solar, glancing over his shoulder. "I will kill you - but I will wait to do so until you have truly mastered those swords you wield, and can bring your all." He walked off of the arena floor, not another word spoken.

Rikuto stared baffled, his breathing coming back in check after the pace of combat subsided. His eyes darted between his opponent, his blades, his opponent, the crowd... was this a trick? Was he being set up? A glance around - perhaps he would come from another... no, no - this was truly the path being taken out of this fight.

He looked at his blades, wondering what power and history they concealed - and wondering who now knew. He had to draw them, or the match would have ended in his blood - of that he was certain. He could sense their resonation at the defeat of this opponent; he was not trivial by any standards. He thought to hide the artifact, but the crowd needed attention.

Rikuto rose from his stance and regarded his opponent with mock humor. The crowd hadn't shared that moment - he could save face. "What - giving up so easily? The fight was just getting good; you won't let me have my first match!?" He stood taunting his opponent - knowing full well it would do nothing to stop him. The crowd was split between those who enjoyed his show, and those who knew Kurogasa to have darker plans in store.

Rikuto took up his armor and robe and made his way out as the dying applause from half of the crowd wore down. He gave them a good show, all told, but now he had more to think about... more on his mind. Who was this man? How did he know they would cross paths once more? What about his blades shook the opponent?

And where the hell was he? For now Rikuto sat in a bar in the poorer neck of town, named the Winged Simhata, drinking away the thoughts, laughing and spinning tales with the small crowd who led and followed him to the afterparty. Half of this party was devoted to Steelthorn's awesome fistfight; the rest were either spreading small rumors about Rikuto's fight with Kurogasa, or admiring Volfer's impressive muscles. A name was dropped, a place was mentioned, he found his feet taking him once more to the largest party going in Root that evening - he was promised it would be eventful, yet he hadn't predicted just HOW eventful it would be until he was in the middle of the flow, full of gods knew what things, filling gods knew what people.

He caught some friendly faces here - the guard whose jaw was still healing from their brawl, Emerald Strider, a hundred slaves he made half a mental note to save or entertain or something, Qin'ai... oh!, Qin'ai! He made his way over there slowly. Between a hundred noises and actions, he expressed to Rikuto that he should talk to Nessa, for they had a plan.

[BLAAAAAAAHHH. At this point, I lost an hour or two of writing the rest of this, and had to go back and rewrite it... in worse form. Ah well, bear with me!]

He eventually found Nessa, surprisingly enjoying nothing of the party. An equally eventful conversation directed him to Volfer, who would be shaking up a slaver this evening, if he wanted to join - so long as he got some information, which was their plan. He thanked her for her time, complimented her on her attire (for she was truly dressed to kill), and made his way off into the haze.

Somehow, he found his way to Volfer, and somehow, the two of them found the slaver they were looking for, back in the poorer parts of town. Soon enough, they had whisked him off into a secluded alley, and soon enough they had broken just about everything in him they could break before he finally began to give them what they wanted. Kurogasa worked for the Black Blades, Raina Sand-Serpent's family was being kept in the palace, his business was at XYZ location (which was surprisingly under attack), he answered a few questions of interest to Volfer... and, damn did that hurt.

It wasn't long before he could only utter cries of pain, agony, and misinformation, and surprisingly enough, Rikuto and Volfer came up with a PLAN for disposing of him! At this point, Volfer largely led the scene, and Rikuto did not mind - not even when they left two men dead, and another thoroughly traumatized.

Once more, their feet found their way through the night, to another random inn of Volfer's choosing - this one named the Winged Simhata. They took their place at the bar, and got a few drinks to wind down the night. The two of them reminisced on their evening, both the battles they engaged in by arena and the way they handled that guy, laughing over how far he flew. They really were alike, those two - cut from the same cloth, coming from similar backgrounds, they shared much of the same passion: spreading freedom from the Realm's tyranny in the Threshold. It could be no coincidence that they met, and would work together in perhaps the grandest battle yet in the Second Age... in their first months of Exaltation.

It had been a long day, all told, and finally, he was in need of a catnap. The innkeeper insisted the room was already his; he made no note of it, assuming it must've been on account of the business his arena match had brought in. He made his way upstairs, waving to Steelthorn in passing as though it were completely natural for her to be there, at whatever inn he was staying by night, and continued on to his room. He slept alone that night, at peace between his thoughts and the haze of substances clouding them. He could remember nothing of that night he wasn't okay with.

---

Rikuto awoke with a splitting headache. He could remember nothing of that night he was okay with. Had he really cavorted with a hundred slaves and demons in a Dragon-Blooded den? Had he and Volfer really killed a man, and been so obvious about it? Hi, Steelthorn - wait, what are you doing here!? Ah, well; regretting the past would get nothing done, and he had good reason to check out mentally for the evening.

Rikuto rubbed his temples and followed Steelthorn downstairs, chatting idly about bedroom relations and their arena matches. He complimented her on what he caught of the fight - for indeed, this had been the first time he'd seen her in melee combat since that fateful day with his tribe in exodus, and she had her sword at that time.

An hour later, after breakfast was over, the rest of the Circle started finding their way to this random inn, one by one. It continued to unnerve Rikuto to no end; he had seen Shen and Perfect Soul coming and going, met by his twitching eye, and now the entire Circle was happening by the inn and stopping to talk. He sighed and shook his head with a smile, as fate would simply have it this way.

And so, they began to share their tales of the night before, each perhaps more eventful than the last.

-> Everyone knew of the afterparties that awaited the three arena warriors. Steelthorn had begun revealing her song to stir revolution in Root, and it was catching on.

-> Qin'ai and Rikuto spent much of their night "together" at the largest party, mostly of little consequence... but opening the doors to opportunity.

-> Nessa too was at this party, and here she poisoned "dozens" of Realm notables, of which about eight died. She also proceeded to gain favor with an overworked bureaucrat, one who might turn on the Realm with some effort. Currying this favor required a lot of paperwork, so she hired a mousy Black Blade of the perfect social persuasion as a liaison, one going by the name of Mouse (with Nessa.)

-> Qin'ai masterfully gained the trust (and blackmail) of an Immaculate Monk, one who wanted nothing to do with her order and could be easy to sway to our cause. Hearing of how she disgraced her vows stirred something in Rikuto, but he was uncertain of it.

-> Their teacher had spent much of the night spreading those symbols they had seen around town, building interest in the cult of masked bodyguards following them around in the shadows.

-> Rikuto and Volfer shook down a slaver, which ultimately ended in his death - but not before he gave over some important information, which... Rikuto was still fuzzy on. Kurogasa worked with the Black Blades... something something... screams of pain... it was all still a blur.

-> Emerald Strider must have crossed paths with the slaver before they had, for she had disrupted his place of business - slaves were freed, they had understaffing issues, and the whole place may well have been ruined.

-> Steelthorn's performances must have garnered her some attention, for it seems she'd spent the night with a mousy suitor. Qin'ai and Rikuto applauded her, for while the morning after may have been awkward, the night must have been an amazing one - if only anyone could remember. As they slowly started to put the pieces together... they decided to quickly get on to the next point of conversation and let events unfold on their own.

As everyone else was wrapping up the final points, Rikuto was staring wistfully off into the distance. Perhaps the most important scrap of information from the night before had slipped his mind, and now crept back. He asked if anyone else had figured this out - for the slaver had mentioned that Raina Sand-Serpent's family was being kept in the palace. Every eye in the Circle shot to him for a tense moment, before everyone burst into laughter. A fitting end to a fitting night, and now all attentions could turn to attending matters at hand, to make another impressively memorable night. Today, they would secure Raina and her family, if it was safe to do so before deposing the rulership. Another tale for legend - just another day in the lives of Solars.

---

Seeing things clearly now, and being ready to see to real business with regards to the Black Blades and House Nukoze, Rikuto was in a better frame of mind to address his thoughts. Aside from all the cloudiness he had been pursuing, a few things now stood at the forefront.

-> His life was in danger from Kurogasa and any of his agents. Nobody could identify the make of his blade, in either component; shadow magic and some strange metal seemed alloyed, whatever that meant, and he likely wasn't some pithy Exigent with obscure powers.

-> It was clear they needed all the resources they'd gathered, for they were truly about to start a revolution among a city as large as this, and expect to leave unscathed.

-> It was nothing amazing, but Rikuto had scouted and cleared by a local Beastfolk tribe to allow Raina's family to use a secluded cottage in the woods while the turmoil wore down. Despite the circumstances and his moving performance to convince them, it was customary for his tribe to now owe theirs, and he would find some amends in the near future.

-> Rikuto could hardly bear the tragedy of slavery so prevalent in Root. He needed to find some way to sow the seeds of doubt, to perhaps convince at least some businesses to find other goods to traffick in; seeing people as a resource was only shades away from pure evil, barely above the Fae and demons. In essence, it was... Anathema work. Perhaps Steelthorn could help with this... if only she felt strongly enough.

-> Rikuto would soon revisit his tribe, and he was still at a loss for words on how to regard them. Kitara was still a mystery to him, if it was even her... that they were all safe and knew their path was all he could hope and ask for. Having defied the Realm, it was only a matter of time until the people he fought to defend would once again be his tribe.

They had a lot of work cut out for them... the only thing left to do was start on the next project.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:40, Wed 03 Feb 2016.

It was a dark night, though there were no storms present. Mist rose up from the ground, shrouding the streets of the town of Root. Occasional torch light could be seen flickering as the town garrison made their nightly rounds. The streets were almost preternaturally quiet. Even the taverns had closed. Only the infrequent clatter of stealthy figures making their ways across the rooftops disturbed the silence.

Three dark forms lumbered their way out of the mist. Two slim, cloaked figures carried a large body between them. Had the streets been busier the trio could have been confused for two beleaguered souls taking their drunken friend home for the evening. But as the streets were empty, the pair was not even trying to pretend that the body they carried was still alive. They carried the body more like a bundle of dead weight than a concerned friend. Yet even under the load, one of the figures was glancing around nervously.

“You know,” the male figure spoke as he casually shifted to balance the load. “A lesser man might have problems carrying a body which is slowly stiffening from death. Good thing we’re blessed, right?”

“Silence,” the female figure hissed. “We still have some distance to cover and we must not be noticed.”

The male smiled, his feline eyes flicking around. “Right… that is why you would choose not to continue on that train of thought. That we might not see someone prying, at a time like this.”

At this the female figure said nothing.

His point made, he paused before continuing. “Well, no matter. It’s just weight.”

The pair lapsed into silence. Their footsteps, heavy under the weight, were muffled by the mild fog enveloping the streets. “You think me to be a monster,” Nessa said softly. “I have seen it. I have seen the way some of the others look at me. Even my (proverbial? Hypothetical?) master looks at me oddly when he believes I am not paying attention. It is fine and well that I gather the information, but nobody dares think about the means. As if any of us can claim to be bloodless and pure.”

Rikuto listened carefully, humming in thought. “I believe your fears are merely phantoms. I can only speak truly for myself, but I do not believe any of us reserve these thoughts for you. In my eyes…” There was a noticeable pause here, as he tried to gather his thoughts, and lowered his tone. “I know little of you. However… from what I have seen of you your trade is merely a means to an end; an end we most certainly need. Not every threat or contact will present itself in a manner we can handle... publicly. You are trusted, in this Circle, to choose the right path for your own and our interests, and...” He sighed, defeated. “I can only repeat what you already know. . . . Our worlds are far and near at times.”

The pair silently navigated the city streets for a while before Nessa spoke again. “It is… difficult here. Being in this group. In my village it is easier. Ninja are as tools, wielded at the hand of our Kage. Any contract with a client is investigated and considered by wiser heads. As the hand I merely have to think about how the task is accomplished. These decisions over when and who to kill… in the village it would be years before I would have to decide such things. In the field these are the decisions of Chunin, not a Genin such as myself. I believe the choices I have made would be considered justifiable in my village, else I would not have made them. However, it is difficult sometimes to bear the looks of others who have not had to wield a blade with such a bloody hand.”

[At this point, we both needed to take a break; we'll be continuing this post, and untangling the social mess we created, soon!]

[Not so serious post. But meaningful.]
[An afternoon at the lodging of the caravan in Root, Dusty Trails's quarters.]

It was as innocent a discussion as any other - Rikuto was sharing tale of the events in Root with Dusty Trails, and the conversation was going well. It was relatively enjoyable to hear about the amazing arena fights he hadn't had a chance to visit; he took great interest in the accolades of all of Rikuto's supernatural companions, especially when he spoke of the two Circles; he seemed genuinely interested in what babble Rikuto could repeat of the Hatefire-demon imp whose rhetoric confused Dusty Trails as much or more than it confused Rikuto. The pair were laughing; it was a feel-good conversation.

Yet there again was that word. "I bet Kurogasa conceded solely out of fear of what a barbarian such as yourself would do to him!" Rikuto maintained his smile and his poise, and nodded, continuing with his story.

Yet it was not long before once more he was into that rhetoric. "Surely Perfect Soul was able to arrange your entry to the noble court entirely because the other nobles took you for a barbarian prin-"

Rikuto stood straight upright, what fur covering his body raising on end. "STOP! You know nothing of what you speak, none of you do! You refer to me as a BARBARIAN, yet I am clearly, obviously, without doubt or remorse, a TRIBAL! What right do YOU have to accuse MY tribe of being such degenerates, of having no SENSE, no POISE, no RATIONALITY!? We are a PROUD people! We are a CULTURED people! We have fine ART, we are guided by SHAMANS and MYSTICISM, we work incredibly hard for our keep, yet we are constantly oppressed by your kind, your entitled city kind who haven't a scrap of HONOR in your UPBRINGING to speak of! You, you people, will be the last to speak to me of how I conduct myself in your... your alien courts of social... nonsense! You should sooner draw steel if your words were meant to cut so deep! Ugh!"

With this, he threw up his hands and stormed out of the room, muttering under his breath, "easib 'ayuha alnnas! 'uqsim ealaa eayilati..." as he trailed off into the distance. Dusty Trails, for his part, stood standing with a glance in Qin'ai's direction, equal parts appalled and horrified, yet the Sidereal he concealed had a quirk of a smile forming on the corners of his mouth. Finally, Rikuto was finding his words and defending his people.

For Qin'ai's part, he merely paused, laughed, and shook his head - this was predictable, to be certain. Rikuto had always been that way, barely holding his tongue when his "honor" was "questioned." He was young and he was wise, but he would need to take it in stride, and use it to teach.

Privy to this whole display was a bear in the foreground, whose foraging came to a halt as he looked up to witness this tirade. There was a telltale look on his poor face. Rikuto was marching straight in his direction, lucky was he, and the bear could only sink deeper into that expression, and shrink from the coming storm. Rikuto stared, and cursed his fate (the bear knew not which was being cursed), then turned away and shuffled off. The bear sighed heavily and went back to what he was doing, tortured once again.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:53, Thu 18 Feb 2016.

[Serious post.]

Rikuto was shell-shocked from the moment he had heard that statement. That Dog of the Dawn could so easily break his word on a matter so solemn and cruel; that he could maintain the charade and employ sorcery to deceive, to keep another soul prisoner to his will... he immediately burned with a passion he had not felt in months, and prior had not felt in his life - this was the same white-hot golden flame that sent him into Exaltation. He could not wait three days, and all knew it - even Qin'ai, who merely deflected the tide of poor actions by giving Rikuto a welcoming outlet for the rawest of his emotions.

Sleep did nothing to soothe his savage soul; he stole away in the early hours, practicing the stealth Nessa wielded effortlessly, trying his best to emulate the minute presence of Mouse. He wore a cloak to conceal any glances at his face; the last thing he would do is betray his emotions at a time such as this. He needed a large serving of meat; he would be catering to a nearby village. For this he had to stop somewhere, and he did his best to keep his tone minimal. Hauling this parcel over his shoulder, he made what few paces remained between that location and the outskirts of town, for he had chosen it for that purpose.

Rikuto knew the paths well; he had planned them for Raina's salvation, yet now he used them for... this. He carved a lightning step through the woods, biting back his rage, yet gradually increasing in pace as he continued. It was not far, but he practically ran into the beastfolk patrol, who snarled for only a moment before realizing something deeper was at hand. He regained his composure, and spoke briefly.

"I must ask another favor of your tribe, and for this I apologize deeply; knowing the circumstances, your elders will understand, and for the inconvenience, I have brought your hunt in advance... but I require able-bodied hunters such as yourselves. I have heard of a scene of a murder on your territory; it is grisly, and we will practice final rites to put their spirits at rest, but first we must determine it is not simply a trap." Rikuto flashed his swords, and gave the hunting party a long moment to consider his words. He asked them to fight by his side, that of a stranger no matter the lineage - but he was offering to secure their territory, and a well-armed companion being as honest as he could was the last they expected of a highwayman. Their apparent leader nodded and led Rikuto to the tribe personally, to relieve his burden and notify the elders.

Rikuto and three beastfolk warriors set out into the late morning, taking subtle paths and keeping a watchful eye. Their minds were set to a task; Rikuto was wary of sorcerers already, and brigands second. He was only afraid a mercenary company would be stationed there to provide a serious fight for an Exalt, one which would easily cut down his companions. He did not think he was using them as fuel for further rebellion, and had they gone that direction this morning it would not be his doing - these thoughts did not cross his mind, for a foreign threat in one's territory was something quickly assessed. Then his mind turned to that god Nessa had encountered; the living embodiment of treachery in Root, with blood on her hands. Could she be a mere patsy of murder, an informant and an enabler of prayer? If she was involved, might she be here to sway his path - or worse?

He shook his head and cleared his thoughts; fears need not be added to the list of emotions already clouding his mind. He clutched his mortal blades tighter (that his companions not be afraid of entering a battle which wavered a God-Blooded) as the glen in question came into view. He practically charged into the midst, eyes darting around for any hidden surprises, feet careful not to disturb anything on the scene. The mounting scent was no comfort, but he continued disbelieving; perhaps something else, something natural, had died here; his eyes continued searching for ambush locations, it could be a decoy...

But he was only making phantoms of lesser dishonors. As they came into a clearing, every thought in Rikuto's mind was dismissed, and his heart twisted in his chest like a knife. His swords fell to the ground as he fell to one knee, tears already stinging his eyes as the proof was lain before him, an unceremonious heap of gore and deceit. It took him what seemed like an eternity to make sense of it, to regain his thoughts, to come up with some reasoning, some right - and there was none to be found. No assassins revealed themselves. No spirits lurked here. No sorcerers, no gods, no civility existed, only his tribesmen - at least, in that moment of weakness, they felt as tribesmen - securing the perimeter before returning to him.

He took a minute, then, to regain what little composure he would have for three days. He took up his blades, and carved a sigil into the ground, before sheathing them and rising unsteadily to his feet. It was the least he could do to have an investigation crafted, to get some closure, find some positive note, at least find some token of memory. The knot in his throat prevented him from speaking, but the message went unsaid; the men worked silently, finding some token and assessing that the deaths were, at least, quick... the marring, not so much. Equally silent were they when they left that scene carrying the fallen. It was not far to their village, and they would know there what rites should be practiced, what preparations and final duties were required. Rikuto likewise knew what needed said, when he could find his voice to do so.

Lunch was silent, in the section of the village Rikuto could hear. Children played in the distance; their innocence was untouched, thus far. Birds called; they could not know this tragedy. Elders sat across from Rikuto, waiting for him to have words, and still he could not find those he needed... but he spoke at least what was required, his eyes sore once again. He would speak before an audience of their tribe, when they permitted; his message spoke to the very fiber of their shared being, and meant great things for the coming days of their village. It was not long before the audience was granted, and Rikuto did his best to at least speak clearly. They needed to know what this meant, of their neighbors, of the coming days. It would do Steelthorn proud to hear him naturally speaking such as this.

"Raina Sand-Serpent was a lowly peasant girl in the trade city of Root; you may know it well. Yet Raina was blessed by some godly being, that much is certain - the power she wields is divine, beyond that which I have seen. Yet none may retain a position of power and dignity, when the nobility of a city decide that they have the right, the audacity, to take that power by force, for their... blood games." He seethed at the thought that he once supported the Arena, that he could be so foolish to vent his steam there without directing it at those who sat by and permitted it. He looked around, and continued.

"Dog of the Dawn is the given name of a man chosen by the God of the Arenas and Blood. I see it in his form; he is a man of great power, he is a gladiator, he is an inspirational figure for his people. And I have learned these past few days, that he is more evil of a man than I have known in my past - and indeed, I have known and slain great men of evil for their crimes." The crowd shifted; perhaps it was unwise, to state so soon one was a killer. But no matter - Rikuto's emotions were an inch from the surface, and he would address it soon enough. He took a deep breath before continuing.

"Dog of the Dawn, hero of the people as he may be, took advantage of Raina Sand-Serpent, in the most dishonorable ways I can even begin to imagine. Upon learning of her power, the state of Root seized her into their arena. They kidnapped her family, and held them prisoner, deceiving her with a sorcery that supposedly showed them in safety and served as a trigger for their captors - that Raina would fight for them or suffer her family's deaths." A murmur in the crowd. Most knew a family of bodies was found that day, and began connecting dots. "I have it on confidence that he knew no limits. Dog of the Dawn abused her powers. He abused her body. He abused her freedom. He abused her trust. He abused her moral fiber, forcing her to kill." A growl was now rolling through the audience, as he held for the last, his own emotions rising to the surface. "And worst of all, he abused her kin.  For she would never see them again, the cur of a man had them slain, they were a liability!" He snarled and looked away, rubbing his eyes and collecting himself. Another murmur was rippling through the crowd; concerned faces were casting their eyes towards the bodies, solemn and bitter in mood.

"I do not ask you to take action. This is not your battle, I have asked enough of your people and you have held true to your word. I trust societies of honor such as ourselves to take action against these tyrannies; to at least foster the innocent and defend our own. I work with a band of... powerful men and women, who are at this moment... making plans. I will hold my peace until vengeance is delivered, if I am able... but I cannot see these atrocities grow any worse. If you would spare the time, I must see these people given their final rites... that they not haunt their daughter or... give the cur any more reason to be unduly cruel." He sighed and shook his head, thumbing the talisman around his neck. "As much as it pains me to say, you cannot take action on her behalf... not until a woman named Steelthorn gives a speech such as this for a people she may better inspire. You may know her by the flaming instrument with which she stirs hearts - her voice; and you may know me," he concluded, flashing out a brilliant orichalcum daiklave, stirring it to greater brilliance, and bringing it to level before him, "by my swordcraft." He dismissed the blade and spoke one final time. "Acts of such dishonor... slavery, tyranny, betrayal, deceit... they cannot go unforgiven. It may soon pass that Root sees new rulership, and this may affect your tribe; I ask that you plan for it accordingly, and assist me in one final rite of passage for these souls. I shall make the rest my burden. You have been most noble in offering me your food, your time, and your aid; I thank you all." He nodded and saw himself out, convicted now more than any other feeling; for now, he would find a shaman and address the disgraced. There was no cheering and exultation in his wake; he was not stirring them into a fervor, pronouncing himself their savior, no - he was condemning the harsh realities of this world, and formally declaring his duties, both to vent his suffering and swear by his honor to end these times. It was a somber mood he left, with hope for change setting in during the aftermath. The flames crawled up his back as the man in the cloak left as mysteriously as he had arrived.

---

Honor is being true to your word.
Honor is being true to yourself.
Honor is upholding your values.
Honor is defending the innocent, no matter the personal cost.
Honor is respecting the strong, until proven otherwise.
Honor is holding your tongue and your hand to protect your kin.
Honor is employing no deceptions, in an effort to be fair to others' strengths.
Honor is a quest of self-actualization, a journey one never fully completes until he joins the ancestors with as much dignity and assurance as he can provide for himself.
Honor is rare, a valuable practice not meant for everyone, yet those who practice it are worthy of the same.

---

This message was last edited by the player at 05:57, Fri 19 Feb 2016.

[What follows is essentially a summary of our final days in Root, with some perspective from Rikuto and so on. If nothing else, tying up and justifying some loose ends, and preparing for another post.]

Rikuto stood panting, his soul bleeding out in waves of pure dawn's light, as his Circle and his allies stood watching. For a moment, he had no composure; there was some sort of primal bloodlust which had overtaken his tempo; he had to resort to his deepest roots to do the near-impossible, slaying a god even with the aid of his battle brother Volfer. It took everything he had to keep from a bonfire, and still he bled a raging aura.

Nonetheless, he regained his senses. He bowed for the fallen, not knowing he would regenerate, only knowing that his dishonor had been atoned by combat. If he was of the same cloth as Kurogasa, if he could return to this world, well... perhaps he would consider the consequences of running roughshod over humanity and base decency.

Rikuto resumed his normal posture in a flurry of sword slashes which ended with the swords flashing away to Elsewhere. He paused a few moments, and enacted a series of spiritual motions to hone his mind, resolve the battle, and hopefully tame his Anima. But the motes were rich in the air, and only time would bleed away the raw Essence.
[hr]
He took stock of the scene. He would have no further issues with the Captain of the Guard, not that he drew much slaver blood personally. Broken bones, maybe. Shattered organs, well... he was no doctor. It was not him who ended any lives that week, he was merely working with the real culprits. It was unlike a man of honor to take a life without good reason, and only stories explained the actions of those men and women. He did witness the intent of one, however, the one he was most directly involved in dispatching. It was the Bagger, that great brute who sought to have his way with an innocent, who received the most direct blows for his due penance. But regardless, V'lyn was dead, and would be no more trouble.

Dog of the Dawn too lay dead on this battlefield. At last, that wicked strain of humanity had met his end, as rightfully as he should have, at the hands of his victim. It was impossible to find any fault with her; one could only reassure her that her actions were well-taken. Rikuto only regretted wishing to take that vengeance from Raina, for his own hatred. It was far less cathartic for her to see him dead, than for her to kill him. It was best this way.

And so they were left with Cynis Nukoze, and his brother, that guy whose name Rikuto never heard. With Nukoze and that guy out of the picture, their objectives in Root were firmly secured, as far as Rikuto was concerned. Sure, establishing a new rulership was ideal, but Mnemon Azana tasked them with upsetting the imbalance ("hierarchy"*) in Root, and they had surely completed this task. Now all that remained was to decide whether to return to Stem and speak with her personally, or let business be business and see to our next line of duties, in Vector and Thorns. Right after we would visit the ruins, and finally uncover that library. Rikuto dreamed of their performance, of how they would finally prove themselves to the blood apes, and prove the black ships were imminent.
[hr]
Hours later, with their blades cleaned of this day of strife, the wounded tallied and victories honored, Rikuto stood before his loose band of braves. He could not call them a well-ordered band of soldiers. Indeed, they were merely a band of hunters and all the men of a village - truly a militia, too small for this town's affairs. They had done what they could, keeping peace and stopping the situation from brewing into anarchy, but this was not familiar to any of them, and they had not been able to elbow their way to the palace before all was said and done. If it had not been for Jeng's plan, they would have been a valuable asset for dealing with guard incidents around town - but nonetheless, this was not meant to be. Still, they were victorious, for they had contributed to salvaging this town, restoring their region, and preserving the majority of civilian lives. For all of this, Rikuto commended his brave warriors, and swore any alliance reasonable between his tribe and theirs, despite two weeks' travel separating them. Perhaps this would prove useful in the future, but for now, he could offer no greater gratitude for their bravery. And they expected no more or less - it was of their own free wills that they fought, and Rikuto was no warlord; it seemed the situation was handled before it even began. They shared drinks with and swore themselves to a champion, and that's all that mattered. With one last round, they said goodbyes, and parted from the caravan.

Perfect Soul may have been present in the arena, sorely watching Rikuto rush to near certain death once again, fondly watching Rikuto flex his muscles and propel his destiny. By the time Rikuto was taking stock of the scene, after his minutes of battle with Cytherek, she was nowhere to be seen; she had already stolen away to prepare her Circle for its travel to Jiara, and for that, Rikuto could only feel it... appropriate. Fitting. Romantic. He may never see her again, but the time they shared would last in his memory until they met again, fleeting once more like doves in an Eastern wind. He felt better, in many ways, about this parting, compared to how he had lost Kitara those months ago. He was still uncertain if Kitara roamed the world or had been replaced with an Anathemic demon, but certainly, it knew her all too well if that was the case, for he had... many ways, of identifying her personally. Certainly, these were thoughts for another time.

And so they prepared to once again head out on the paths, revisiting memories and learning what was in store for them. After mulling over their shortcomings, the entire Circle seemed giddy to learn anything that could be useful in their coming misadventures. A voice in the back of their minds reaffirmed that learning is fun, and indeed, the air was all about them. Razmir was hosting a class in the Occult traditions practiced by Eastern sorcerers, and not a voice among them could argue against such an inspiring, useful lesson. It was probably weird, but it seemed to fit, and they went with it. Anything else they could practice on the road was also favored, and they planned for anything necessary to make that learning possible. If nothing else, they would need a new routine in Vector, and their Essences all seemed to cry out for harnessing after touching on the deeply inspiring events of Root.

It could wait no longer. After a week in Root, they collected themselves, and set out. Raina and Mouse were in attendance, Emerald Strider and Phoenix Ashes were not. Certainly, some others had joined; Rikuto could not keep track of every face coming and going. His mind was on his practice, and the potential for more intimate encounters with his tribe. He was finding himself confused and at a loss for words on how to encounter his people, but they remained warm and close to his soul, and any association would come naturally, he was certain.

This message was deleted by the player at 17:38, Thu 10 Nov 2016.