The game of cat and mouse is exhilarating. The Blue Gong men are alert but prove no match for Seeks' Essence fueled prowling. A pause for the right moment, blending with a knot of passing people, a flash of the knife, and Heron Sleeve's black locks fall unnoticed into Seek's palm. Seeks disappears into the crowded street with his prize.

Slender Willow Swaying saw no wonder or value in the thugs of the Blue Gong yet it seemed her opinion wasn't shared as she watched, for but an instant, as Seeks What is Forgotten took a far more pointed interest in them. As if they were a shark that had scented blood in the water. That ever present, ever wicked smile softening at the edges with a hint of bemusement and the light of amusement dancing in those cerulean eyes for the moment it took for her friend to vanish into the shadows. She couldn't help but laugh in the moment as memories churned and roiled within her three tiered soul, bringing with them hazy recollections of once companions and greater lives long past and distant. That feeling of melancholy stealing slowly upon her as she tugged at the gossamer threads of those memories and was reminded all the more deeply of the diseased age in which she now lived...

She was not so easily swept away though in the moment as she rooted herself in that wretched present and reminded herself of the task she was committed to. That smile once more etching across her near perfect features as she practically floated into the tea shop, her eyes tracing the walls with all the attentiveness of the comfortable predator before settling on the so recently beleaguered merchant with a warmer, less wicked but no less enduring smile to suit the moment.

"I hope it isn't a bad time, you look a little pale." Slender Willow Swaying asked politely with a note of care in her voice as her steps carried her a little closer so that she might not have to raise her voice unduly. The click of her obsidian hooves upon the floor of his shop only barely audible among the riotous clamour of the markets beyond and so only seeming like a finely appointed sandal to the ears of the inattentive.

The interior of the shop is plain and practical compared to the bright cheery scene of tea farmers on the exterior brickwork. A few tables line the walls of the narrow shop with customers sipping from porcelain cups. Two old men share a hookah pipe in a corner. White smoke wreathes their heads as they chat. At the far end is the middle-aged proprietor with his back to the door. He stirs a pot absentmindedly until the click-click-click of Willow's hooves on the wooden floor boards draws his eyes. Skinny with folds of loose skin hang from Old Fenshin's aged face as a look of recognition lights his rheumy eyes. His face is professional and blank as he nods to Slender Willow Swaying.

"No. Just business. Welcome to my tea shop. Its been a while." 

Seeks What Is Forgotten let his fingertips trace along the brickwork as he returned to the tea shop, humming a tuneless song whose words had been lost lifetimes ago. He wound the black locks between the fingers of his other hand,  and wondered what Heron Sleeves would think when he noticed it missing. He had barely noticed when his own had fallen out, though in his own defense, he had been desperately fighting with a deathcurse at the time. He had been far more concerned with desperately mixing together unguents and potions to stave off the burning corruption devouring him from within than he had at his outward appearance. He certainly didn't care now, else he would have taken some form years ago. Except, was that technically the case? He realized with some surprise that found within himself a strong desire to take Heron Sleeve's face now. He wasn't quite sure where that desire came from, and as he walked he checked within himself to ensure that it wasn't Mara's influence. Her's was a subtle will, and she was so good at slipping through the cracks of his defenses. What a strange patronage, and yet it was one they had both come to some strange mutual understanding over. Predatory, yes, but an understanding nevertheless. He wondered how similar it was to the understanding he'd soon have with Heron Sleeve's shadow.

He'd learn the man's true name soon enough, once he had a moment of reprieve.

He slipped through the door of the shop, making sure to make enough noise that Slender Willow Swaying would have no choice but to hear the shuffling of his feet, before slipping back into her shadow.

"Apologies. I found a bauble that caught my eye."

He croaked, the sound barely a whisper, slipping the strand of hair into a pocket within his sleeve.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:56, Fri 24 Dec 2021.

In reply to Seeks What Is Forgotten (msg # 43):

The Changing Moon half turned to regard Seeks What is Forgotten with an amused snort, the sound almost delicate if only by the biases one might ascribe to her mortal aesthetic without knowing what burned like a furnace beneath. Seeks the What Is Forgotten had only a taste of what was beneath but he could see the flicker of that wicked, maddened nature in every glance towards those eyes yet there seemed so few embers here to enflame that temper and that desire to purge and destroy that she had so gleefully thrown herself into... It could only be wondered at just what might light that fuse here. For her own part, Slender Willow swaying had to wonder after just what nature of bauble had sent her friend so quickly on his way... and the mystery tantalized at a feline curiosity somewhere in the depths of her mind and three tiered soul.

"Oh, so that's what had you so spirited?" She offered with a teasing note to her voice. The barbs that seemed to linger in every word and action retracted if only, seemingly, to ease her passing and allow for a glimpse of life undisrupted by recollections of better times and better selves. She turned her attention back towards Old Fenshin with a shallow but sincere bow from the waist at any impropriety she might have engaged in with the acknowledging of Seeks' return. That light of recognition in his old eyes noted with a hint of her true smile in all it's wicked fanged glory for but a flash of an instant before the mask of civility and propriety settled once more into place.

"Ah, Matters of coin are always so serious but it certainly has been a time." Slender Willow Swaying replied with a note of respectful gravitas lined just so with a silvered edge of darker humour in tone that flowed upon the tide of words as she agreed it had been some time since last walked the markets and streets. "But has it been so long that you no longer carry the Snapping Petal Dragon blend? Old roots bring me back and I don't like to arrive on the door step empty handed."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:26, Fri 24 Dec 2021.

"Heh..."

Seeks What Is Forgotten let out a nervous cough, doing his best to keep Slender Willow Swaying between himself and the master of the tea shop. He was quite good at not drawing attention to himself from mortal eyes, had needed to be considering his appearance, and he strove to put those skills to good use now. Not hiding, not clinging to shadow like some little elemental of shadow. Just staying out of the way, unobtrusive and quiet.

"Funny you should use that word, spirited."

He whispered to her back, his creaking voice just barely loud enough to enter into her perceptions.

"As something's noticed me, and I haven't noticed it back."

Which was the only explanation, of course.

For all his time spent binding Demons in contracts and pledges, he'd never developed the knack for opening his third eye and perceiving that which exists between planes of consciousness and unconsciousness. He hadn't needed to, having never drawn their attention or ire, but in retrospect it was a foolish vulnerability to have left open. For now he appeared to have risen to the attention of a Spirit, and he had no ability to discern it. Dangerous, to play the games he had played and to be so blind. He saw that now, but wisdom for the future was only helpful if one survived the present.

Perhaps the terrifying battle mistress whose shadow he followed would prove as adept at dispatching the threat in the hidden world as she had of threats in the material one.

The old proprietor finally cracks a smile as the tension from his earlier encounter with the Blue Gongs fades. "We do indeed carry the Snapping Petal Dragon blend."

Old Fenshin digs through packets upon his shelves before turning with a satisfied nod to set it upon the counter. He names a price high enough to raise the hair on a man's neck. "Unfortunately Twilighter bandits and grippli raiders on the Quagmire plantations have made importation difficult. Prices are high everywhere."

The Changing Moon only offered a smile at her companions response. An aspect of the fiercer self evident in the edge it held before that expression morphed to better suit the coming conversation. A spirit pursuer was nothing more than nuisance so long as it's bonds could not be traced to far more problematic beings in the city.

"There's certainly a kinship there." Slender Willow Swaying retorted with a demon's smile and a playful flight in her eyes as she leaned lightly onto the counter at the invitation to haggle. It was almost that same mad energy as had so thoroughly infused her in the battle against Sleet yet the barbs lacked that wicked intent, merely prodding and poking at someone that it now became apparent she had some measure of familiarity with and wished no true harm to.

"The last whispers I heard on the road was they had assigned half a legion at the Guild's request to keep such things running smoothly? Now that has to bear the weight of a pretty coin but it's not your hand it's lifting from isn't it?" the Changing Moon added with a sweet lilt to her voice that seemed all too like the scent of some poisoned flower that promised a blissful death yet she persisted with all the spirit of a dog offered up a bone as she took to the chase of the haggle to settle the deal towards a happy medium. Her words twisting and turning the point with a natural grace that spoke to tribal roots and experience rather than the fancy ways of some courtier's school. Her hands always find way to dance and underline the point when not grasping at her shawls and skirts to draw the eye and distract with an artful touch as she leaned on her charms and gift with such things to sell the point.


Not the best roll but don't have a lot to work with beyond stunting/excellencies.

19:14, Today: Slender Willow Swaying rolled 3 successes using 8d10 with the White Wolf Exalted system with a target of 7.  Charisma + Presence.

This message was last edited by the player at 17:24, Tue 28 Dec 2021.

[Old Fenshin invoked his Major Principle "Profit is its own reward" vs Willow's social interaction for a +3 Resolve bonus.]

The old merchant rolls his eyes,"Calling those mercenaries and ex-bandits the Guild hires to guard the Meander route or the outland plantations a 'legion' is doing them too much honor. Not that the Guild wants a Realm legion or a 7th Legion field force anywhere near the free city of Azrego."

He shrugs, "These aren't normal times, miss. You're an outland guide...you know how dangerous it is. But I suppose it isn't your fault. Tell you what..."

Fenshin dickers spiritedly with Slender Willow Swaying before reluctantly agreeing to a new price. He packs the tea carefully and presents it to the two Lunars in exchange for Willow's coin. Bargaining done he nods cheerfully to the Lunars before turning to a new customer.

[We can move on to the academy now if you wish.]

Seeks What Is Forgotten watched the exchange in apparent abject fascination, though it was an odd subject for such engagement given its mundanity. He remained as always withing Slender Willow Sway's periphery, out of sight of others as much as could be managed while always just at the edge of her piercing gaze. He did not doubt she could skewer him, if she wished, and that if he evaded her gaze it was because she allowed him to do so. Yet it was where he felt most comfortable, out of the limelight, letting her lead. If she were done here, he would let her lead the way. He had his own schemes, but there would be time enough for them when these two meetings were done.

"I have plans for the Heron's face..."

He whispered to both members of his two soul audience, one ephemeral and one standing before him, though he started to wonder if he erred in telling his companion about the voice. Not that it was a secret he wished to keep from her, but he would feel foolish if it had been from one of the voices he always carried with him.

"… are you offering to aid me in the hunt?"

That directed purely to the voice, though he made sure to say it loudly enough that Slender Willow Swaying could hear.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:40, Sat 01 Jan 2022.

Slender Willow Swaying accepted the wrapped parcel with a happy note to voice and that ever present, ever evocative smile as she gently tucked it away amongst her shawls and skirts. The presence of pockets hidden among the fabric seeming the least strange thing about the tribal woman. With no more to the matter at hand, she bid Old Fenshin the blessings of the gods of her people and those blessings upon his family and turned with that same near perfect grace. The soft clatter of her obsidian hooves upon the floor suggesting a certain reinvigoration of the spirit from so mundane an interaction as she passed out into the streets once more.

A pale hand rising to lightly brush at errant strands of dark hair as she paused at the threshold to take in her surroundings with a careful eye. The essence burning through her chakras to peel back the veils of reality and broaden the boundaries of perception to encompass the worlds and ways of gods and spirits. The only hint of anything at all happening was the momentary deepening of the cerulean hue of her eyes and the agitated twitching and darting of her shadow in those moments where it thought one might not be looking.

With no more a thought to it she departed into the crowds of the market. Hazy memories of different and past lives circling at the edges of her conscious mind and bringing with it a strange cocktail of bitterness and elation for things that continued and things that were no more. As they walked, the spoken question of Seeks What is Forgotten earned a giggle from the  lunar who at some pointe had turned and was now walking backwards through the crowd without a care to the calamity such might seemingly invite. That near perfect grace seeming to guide her every step without hint of error and leaving precious little evidence to the unnatural configurations of her legs in the loud trails of her skirts. It was almost like witnessing a dance in way though the melody and purpose to it was certainly lost in the swirl of madness and emotion that seemed to always circle the Changing Moon.

"Forming a pack, are we?" she teased with a glance from one shoulder to the other and then the crowd beyond in search of this unseen, third, or was it fifth, companion in their quest to find what gods had whispered of to the Shaman Fulgar. The shimmer of the hearth stone set in her breast glinting through the fabrics of her shawl and shirt as if in mirror of the glee that settled in that conspiratorial smile she now wore.

OOC: 4 motes from personal essence pool to activate Perceiving the Hidden World. Spending another 3 from peripheral to enhance a perception/awareness check via excellency.

Don't figure walking backwards through a crowded market and having a conversation counts as stunting but if it does, would love to add my dex lol.


12:49, Today: Slender Willow Swaying rolled 6 successes using 9d10 with the White Wolf Exalted system with a target of 7.  Awareness + Perception + Excellency (3).


This message was last edited by the player at 18:00, Fri 31 Dec 2021.

The effort is minimal, almost unconscious. Like squinting at too small print or cupping an ear to hear a whispered conversation. The world seems to pop with color and life to Slender Willow Swaying's enhanced senses. The breeze is ripe with more...scents of the once inconceivable or subtle plays of unnameable colors skirling in its wake. The street, already busy with mortal endeavors, sees lithe forms drifting through the crowds stopping here and there, scrolls in hand. They frown at nothing before making a notation upon their scroll. Of what they are accounting for is uncertain though the spirits are known to be in service to the city god Eorla. There a little girl towed by her mother clutches a doll. Its eyes seem to meet the Lunars gaze before becoming blank little buttons. The least gods of inanimate objects are shy but you could catch glimpses of them from time to time.

But around Seeks What is Forgotten there is no being of spirit, no god, no demon. Its like he is talking to empty air. Perhaps this shouldn't be a surprise. Gods and demons have tricks of their own to talk or sense over distances, and this Mara is reputed to be a sorceress of incredible power on top of it. Spells or spirit tricks, who can say?

"Ahhh...."

Seeks What Is Forgotten let out a rasping noise more akin to a wheeze than a sigh. His robes rustled, and looking down she would likely have noticed that his skeletal hands had emerged from their normal hiding space within the depths of his robes. He held something, working and weaving it around his fingers, and close inspection would have revealed a dark knot of human hair. No, not a knot, for even know he worked and wove it into a surprisingly thin braid. This his boney fingers were weaving into a cat's cradle of ever increasing sophistication and complexity.

"My apologies, Slender Willow Swaying. It's been a bit since I've been around so much... humanity."

He looked about himself from within his cowled hood as he said the word, making no attempt to hide any of the complicated emotions it brought forward for him.

"Guess the old instincts took over, and she always slips in when that happens."

At the word "instincts," he held up the cat's cradle of human hair, as if that explained anything. He didn't have to say who "she" was, he'd made no secret of his divided loyalties early on in their travels, the moment he'd suspected that the other Lunar would react with no fear at the revelation. If he'd come to understand anything at all about his companion in their travels together, it was that fear was not among her list of character flaws. She threw herself at the world as if she intended to shatter it to pieces through sheer bloody determination, and as far as he knew, she did.

Mara he should have expected, and he chided himself that he hadn't realized. He was an oddity among his kind, despite his limited experience with other Celestials he knew that. She was taunting him for it, and frankly, he deserved her mockery. She knew as well as he did that she'd already taught him all that he needed to hunt. With the hair within his fingers even now he could call on the sorcery she had taught him, engaging in a hunt quite unlike any that his fellow Lunars might follow. He hungered for it even now, that blending of Luna's gifts and Mara's teachings.

"The sooner I have some space to weave my shadows, I'll get my head clear."

He said at last, pulling himself from his reverie.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:04, Sun 02 Jan 2022.

There was a softer, almost melancholic note to the smile now as the Changing Moon continued to stroll backwards through the market without a thought towards the crowds that parted around them. Old, hazy memories floating to the surface from the depths of a well worn soul at such discomfort around so much humanity. Her eyes flickering for a moment to the dark knot of hair and the growing weave of it's pattern.

"It's strange to think there used to be more. A lot more." she offered in something like a shared commiseration though the strange note to her voice made one wonder if it was truly the young Lunar or some fragment of a distant self even as that smile persisted and her head tilted for a moment at the elaboration. She turned for only a moment then to slip past someone far less attentive than herself with that near perfect grace of some savage instinct before returning her attention to Seeks What is Forgotten with that same soft smile.

"Instincts are there for a reason. Sometimes, most times, people ignore them without ever thinking why they're there. They are tied to the soul though... so makes sense that a whisper here and there might sneak in when you're doing what feels... natural." Slender Willow Swaying mused as she slowed her backward pace and allowed Seeks to draw just a few steps closer. A gentle skip and she turned with face forward once more, hands falling to keep her skirts from rising too high to give away the curses of her own heritage.

"The Straw isn't too far. You'll have a little more breathing room there. Me though? I... like knowledge but all if it locked up in a place like that feels... contrary to the point?" the Changing Moon offered with a conspiratorial lowering of voice that still teased at the ear with a demon's glee and wit despite the gentler notes of sympathy and understanding that lurked somewhere in the mire of meaning that could be drawn from every little word and gesture of hers... and just beneath that... the ever present melancholy and anger with each hazy memory of distance and better selves that floated here and there between each thought of her present self.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:45, Sat 08 Jan 2022.

He pulled at his collar, though the action did little to loosen the three straps.

"Enough room to weave Contracts and Bargains?"

Which wasn't actually a question of room, and more one of privacy. Seeks What Is Forgotten needed little enough of the former to work his Sorcery, and was adept and finding the later. He felt uncomfortable pestering her like this, and had caught even himself off guard in the act, but with Mara whispering in his ears he knew he needed to find an outlet for the sensations building up within him, or else she would find a way. It had been a release to snatch the lock of hair from Heron Sleeves, it would be so much more to wrap himself in motes of shadow and magic. Being within this place, he began to realize just how much of a creature of instinct he had become. It had been such a subtle thing, Luna's touch twisting his mind even more gently than Mara's had. That was saying something. Yet now he found himself itching to escape the light, itching to return to the dark and the secrets he could pull from it.

He felt naked and exposed, and he knew just what would fix the sensation.

The Changing Moon clasped hands behind her back as her eyes rose to the vault of Heaven above them in consideration of that point. A wicked light stealing into that perpetual smile as her attention returned to earthly concerns that surrounded them as she let her lead tilt to the side and spared Seeks What is Forgotten a glance out of the corner of one cerulean blue eye. Her dark hair shifting and dancing with the motions of breeze and woman.

"It depends on what kind but I wouldn't think the walls don't have eyes or ears... or teeth."

The words themselves weren't unkind but there was a gentle barb in the way Slender Willow Swaying managed those same words. A reminder and warning both that they walked into a den of sorcerers and learned minds that might be wiser to the ways of world and nature than they might wish them to be. Still, her smile turned warm as the Sun above in an instant as she continued onward with all the grace of a dancer. The academy's towering presence growing all the more prominent as they wound their way towards it's foundations.

"Of course, that isn't to say you... couldn't ask to use one chamber or another but that might be showing more of yourself than you're ready to give." she added with gentle notes of understanding that spoke to the young woman, after a fashion, behind the postures of fearlessness and almost deranged determination to shatter and break the forms of the world that had grown sick and wretched around her. The silence that followed seeming a considered one regardless of if there was purpose behind it or not as she seemed to favour one person or another among the passing crowds with a smile or little gesture of greeting.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:10, Sun 09 Jan 2022.

At last the duo approaches the base of the huge bluffs dividing the city of Azrego. Great waterfalls tumble down its face to the large stone basins below which then feed into the Meander River. The bluffs themselves are arranged in layered shelves where the homes and estates of the city's wealthiest gather, the Falls or Up-Falls. Midway up the bluff is the spired home of Azrego's sorcerers.

Here at the base can be found the sturdy wooden scaffolding of platforms. Iron chains wind through the intricate woodwork and lead to great turnstyles where teams of donkeys circle slowly. With a lurch the platforms rise and descend carrying passengers and cargos to the upper city. Only a wooden railing guards the contents from a fall. Lines of common people, merchants, and travelers wait their turn to use the elevators. City watchmen take tabs of people coming and going.

Not far away is a finer construct of silvery metal, built within in the last few years. The platforms are constructed more like beautiful birdcages and instead of chains the platforms are driven by huge screws. Each turning of the screws raises the platforms smoothly to its destination among the wealthier districts. No obvious motive force like teams of donkeys propels the platforms. It is the result of the Broken-Straws finest efforts at sorcerous workings. The Blue Hat mercenaries, armed with shields and spears, keep things orderly and the gorgeous elevator clear of the riff raff.

Seeks What Is Forgotten beheld the wonder that was the raising platform, and shook his head beneath his cowled robe. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly between his teeth within the depths of his parched mouth.

"Is this how they flaunt their wealth these days, preening little things?"

Although it felt like a lifetime ago, and in truth it was at least one, he still remembered well what it had meant to be the son of poor farmers at the outskirts of Sijan. The way he saw it, at least the eternal of that place had the sensibility to lock their great wealth up within tombs and burial mounds, rather than flaunting it gaudily before the common citizenry. He had not coveted their riches for himself, nor his family, for within the crypts they lay in waiting for any brave enough to face the traps, curses, and riddles laid down by those ancient builders. Decades later, he still struggled to articulate what it was about that which appealed to him so, particularly when compared to the platforms he saw now before him.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:35, Mon 17 Jan 2022.

The Changing Moon wore a wicked grin as she caught that little click of tongue and the venom that found root in word as Seeks What is Forgotten set eyes on the raising platforms that were so proudly displayed by their principle architects. She had seen them a dozen times before now and still... they seemed such a pale shadow as hazy memories of times long lost and lives far different churned within her three tiered soul.

It was a scathing laugh that escaped her as she drew just a little closer to her fellow lunar. The sound like knives and claws against the slate despite the beauty and youth of the voice that gave it life.

"How else are they going to impress the dead in the shadows of legend?" Slender Willow Swaying offered with grim humour as she broke away with a light skip and steadying hands upon the flowing, riot of colours that were her skirts to keep the hallmarks of her breath secret from all but the canniest eyes. Her shadow darting and twitching in the light as it seemed to pursue other shadows with all that wretched, halting insectoid speed that was so at odds with the near perfection of grace and balance the Changing Moon possessed.

Her light and quick steps only slowed as she turned more to once more regard her companion with a smile that promised something though whether it was danger or delight was the real mystery in the instant... Yet it was wicked and sharp all the same.

"Best not to keep my friend waiting though this bottleneck'll slow us down anyway." the Lunar lamented with a teasing note as she glanced back towards the various raising platforms. She had not spent so much time here as to make the kinds of inroads she might have liked. She had a little pull but it was all at the periphery of things rather than upon the heart strings. She knew there were easier ways about it but to take wing in the heart of the City was a bold move that she did not quite feel inclined to just yet though most would merely dismiss it as the work of sorcery or some other esoteric art.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:56, Fri 14 Jan 2022.

The appearance of a barbarian woman and her cadaverous companion hidden deep in his hood and bent under the weight of a wrapped object on his back takes the guards aback. The Lunars are not the usual passengers on their lavish birdcage lifts. Upon learning the Lunars have dealings at the Tower of the Eight Directions is enough for them. With warnings to behave themselves from the guards they wave them to one of the screw driven lifts toward the end, a plain affair where servants in fine and colorful uniforms or rougher delivery men from the lower city await their turns. The servants turn their noses up at the 'intruders', involved in their own games of status and importance as they are.

Soon enough the Lunars find themselves on one of the lifts, intrigued by the fine inlays even on this 'plain' birdcage. Fanciful beasts and birds decorate the floor. With barely a hitch it rises smoothly to the designated level far above. Outside the lift cage the falling water roars and shows a fine display of natural beauty. The air turns cooler and the city spreads out below, like toys from a toddler's block set.

A slight clunk and the doors swing open. The liftman, in his own fine uniform glances at the barbarians. "Out with you now. Others are waiting."

Before you is the rocky shelf that the Tower of Eight Directions, or more derisively the Broken-Straw Academy, sits. A single street of middle class houses line a beautifully decorated street, the cobble stones glittering as if they were mixed with colored glass. At its end is the spire of the academy itself rising some dozen stories into the air. It seems to have grown out of the native stone. Artful streaks of stone of different textures and colors give the Tower a fanciful look like out of a fairy tale.

The tower grounds are surrounded by a wrought iron fence with a magnificent set of gates. Beyond can be seen colorfully robed figures going about their business. No one seems to attend the gate but upon approach a voice speaks out of the air, "Welcome to the Tower of the Eight Directions. What is your name and business?"

Beautiful or not, Slender Willow Swaying would always be nothing more than a barbarian in the eyes of 'civilized' men. That did little but to stoke the fires that burned within her as agitated memories of the chase that led her to Mother Luna and memories beyond the life she now led and into the lives of past and better times. It all culminated in sweet tones and a smile so sharp in it's nature that it was a wonder the man might not have felt the line it could have carved in his soul from the perspective of Seeks What is Forgotten... Especially when he knew some measure of what the mind behind that smile was capable of in cutting word and worse with the flat of her hand. Still she complied as there were far greater goals to be achieved than to disrupt the quiet bureaucracy of Academics and Sorcerers.

Each step and gesture now was taken with a measure of that near perfect grace, her mind seemingly preoccupied now with the task ahead and the act of hiding all about her that was different. The assumptions of learned minds were the most dangerous when it came to what she now was and while she might relish the chance to make problems to those precious terrestrial few that could be found here... It was not something she wished to endanger the value of her word upon. Not yet anyway. This sick age was something that must burn, must be cured, must be changed... somehow... but she had a luxury so few had; time.

As the voice greeted them then, she looked up and favored it with the sweet smile one might give to a child.

"Slender Willow Swaying seeks tea and an audience with Stained Fingers."

There was something in her voice that made it seem absurd, a mockery of etiquette, yet by the same token sincere and serious. There was a game here but the nature of it remained the real quest as she stood with hands buried among the flow of festive shawls and skirts with a patience that seemed both alien yet familiar to the Changing Moon. She might possess the will and stubbornness to tear down all before her but she seemed to know, too, when to strike.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:49, Mon 17 Jan 2022.

All along the ride in the lifts, Seeks What Is Forgotten had kept his head down and his flesh hidden beneath his robes. He had contented himself looking out and enjoying the view, humming tunelessly beneath his breath. He had played endlessly with the thread of hair wrapped within his slender fingers, delighting in the thought of what mysteries he would pull from such a thing. He wove it through complex patterns, threads twining over and around each other in a repetitive cycle that never needed to end. It had been so long since he had hunted, but as he stood there he realized that he had given in fully to his old instincts, he would need to be careful with that. Had it been indulgence in instinct that had caused him to snatch his prize from Heron Sleeves? He could not say, and while that didn't make him uncomfortable, neither was it a comforting thought.

He understood well that he was a creature of instinct, but knowing that did not mean he had any more control of it than if he had remained blissfuly unaware.

As they approached the gate, he would have much preferred to remain silent, but he found himself wondering if such a thing would be allowed. Were they talking to a mortal guardian speaking to them through Sorcery, or perhaps it was some sort of sentient enchantment. He wasn't sure which was more interesting, but with both he worried that he would be expected to contribute.

"Seeks What Is Forgotten aims to stay out of the way while she does, and perhaps enjoy a little tea."

He added, and while it wasn't quite what one might consider impertinent rudeness, it certainly wasn't the height of etiquette either.

There is a wait at the gates before they swing open revealing a woman. Unlike many inhabitants of the city with ruddy skin and green hair her face is a dark green and her long red hair blows like flames in the breeze. She wears knee length white robe bordered on its edges with alternating bands of blue and gray. Loose dark pants are tucked into black boots laced up the sides. A kukri rides on her hip.

"Welcome to the Tower of Eight Directions. My name is Liana. I ask that you keep weapons and any magics in check. The tower can be dangerous. I'll take you to Master Stained Fingers in the Hall of Scribes."

Liana is cheerful, keeping up a stream of small talk and seeming to know something of Willow's profession. She asks innocuous questions and readily supplies equally innocuous answers to their guests. The walk takes them past a outdoor class where a half dozen students perform occultic mudras. Sparks of motic energy flare in response under the watchful eye of a elderly tutor. They all wear clothing similar to their guide though the color bordering them changes. The students have a plain black band at the hems of their robes. The tower itself looms overhead, its crown surrounded by rainbows cast by the waterfall's spray. The double doors are open to reveal the Hall of Scribes. It turns out to be a rather unspectacular series of rooms lined with tables, stools, the smell of ink, and chalk boards. Some of the rooms contain a few students.

Finally they come to a more ornate door. Liana opens it to reveal a dark heavy desk in its center surrounded by walls lined with bookshelves and a few assorted relics hanging from the walls. Willow recognizes a few of local tribal make. Behind the desk sits a harried-looking man with thick white hair and rhuemy eyes. He glances up with a huff. "Sit, sit, Both of you. I have a few minutes to spare, Slender Willow Swaying. I'm curious what a professional guide wants of me."