Fable - Ask Pot of Greed

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Juusha Khuam

Repentant Blade
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The city of Sonshan, located on the greater island northwest of the Ra Gnamh Sea. The islands lay unnamed in most merchant's maps; a place that lacks a portal stone, with rocky landings and unwelcome shores. The locals call their island Da Gui.

It is about mid-morning, late summer. A cool mist lays overtop the roofs of Sonshan's lower neighborhoods, obscuring the city's higher mountain districts.


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"Huh, what's going on in there?"
"Over there, on the other side of the wall!"
"I think its a shaman!"
"No way, move over so I can see!"

A group of men gathered outside the window of a low-slung brick building, chattering amongst themselves as they vied for a good view inside. Within, blades clashed and curses flew. It looked to be one sword against a few clubs and knives, but it was difficult to tell in the dark of the abandoned building.

One of the men shouted in alarm, and the rest ducked away from the window as a woman leapt feet-first out the window and over the onlooker's heads. A ceramic pot was clutched against her chest. She landed in the middle of the loose cobble street, and shifted her balance into a run before her second foot could touch the ground. Black robes tied with red string billowed behind her, and she was gone out of view even as her pursuers piled half out of the window after her.

"You lot," called the first thug to hitch her leg over the window and climb out onto the street. Sweat beaded on her brow, a scratch across her cheek bled, and she was panting heavily. She pointed a metal club at the onlookers. "Which way did she go?"

The men all looked at each other.

"Did anyone see her emblem?" Whispered one.
"Iron Clan," another answered.

The words seemed to settle a resolve amongst the men. Someone pointed in the opposite direction that the woman in the black robes had gone. He spoke loud enough for the gathering warriors to hear. "We saw the cat go that way, ma'am!"


Some hours later, in the afternoon.

A cart rolled down the bumpy street. Feet dangling out the back, Juusha bumped along with it. She held a broke piece of pottery in her hand, a look of utter misery etched upon her face. Just her luck, that the pot would break as soon as she lost those goons. With the vessel shattered and the cursed Raakgui that had been stored within freed to roam the city, she had no hope of completing her mission.

At least, not alone.

The cart stopped, its iron-wrapped wheels sticking into a rut between the cobble. Juusha stashed the broken shard into the folds of her robes, and hopped off the cart. "Wait here," she told the driver, who tipped his straw hat in understanding. The dusty blue bird hitched to the cart chirped, as if it was giving its response as well.

Before her, a multi-story building rose up on decorated pillars. The building was old, but fresh coats of paint and plaster gave it a look of glamour that it didn't have. Gold curtains hung over the open doorway, embroidered with gaudy depictions of turtles and coins. People lounged about on balconies above, smoking and laughing with each other. Juusha approached the entrance, and was stopped by a broad-shouldered orcish woman.

"Did a man enter here, with a serpent tattoo, and silver scars upon his face?"
she asked the bouncer.

"Mayhaps," the woman said. "What's he to you?"

Juusha's ears twitched back in annoyance. "The only person in Sonshan who can help me."

Hazanko Miya
 
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"Come on, come on," A man muttered as he clenched tight his fist. "Even! Even!" he shout as the dice dealer held firm the upturned cup that hid their collective fate.

"Odd," another man with silver scars across his face said coolly. His eyes never opened to the spectacle that played out before him, and he nursed a hot drink in one hand.

"Even with sixes!"

"Odds with a seven!"

"Come all, come all, place your bets!"
an attendant woman egged on, her features stretched wide with a greasy amusement. A club hung proudly at her hip, and they fanned themselves with a wide paper fan, old and marked with small pocks.

A pair of shamisen players plucked a jaunty tune towards the back of the smoke filled room, where another crowd gathered round their small stage to share in the ambience and talk about their business.

Wooden blocks clapped a sharp report. Last call for bets.

The dice dealer never broke their concentration. Brow down fixed, arm flexed strong as her fingers held tight the cup, and her expression kept stony.

The wooden blocks clapped again. And the dealer revealed the dice. A puff of cool mist swirled about the bottom of the cup.

The man with the silver scars grinned.

"One and six! Odd!"
 
Juusha stood nearby, leaning up against a pillar, watching the man gamble and win. Groans went through the crowd, as they paid for their reckless bets. A lucky few earned themselves a handful of coins, which they immediately put on other numbers.

But the dice dealer would not roll another set for a few minutes yet. She was taking a break, as one of the betting attendants handed her a pipe to puff on. The excitement ebbed, as men and women stepped away to refresh their drinks, or watch the musicians in their small corner.

"The morning mists burned off hours ago."
Juusha's voice cut through the chatter of the patrons. She had come to stand right above the silver-scarred man. Her tail flicked sharply, as a hapless patron bumped into her. She brushed the intruder off and continued. "Yet here you remain. Are you looking for Raakgui in the bottom of that cup?
 
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"Ah, for the glitter of coin, shines so sweet," the man with the silver scars said, eyes squinted happily as he scooped up the bits of copper and silver.

The morning mists burned off hours ago,

His spine stiffened, and his eyes flit toward the hard voice. What cheer had curled the corner of his turned down to bitterness, the corner of his eyes pulled tight with scrutiny.

"A Raakgui of coin, and good fortune," he said tersely.

A little puff of mist clouded at his shoulder. A squat figure, with pale blue skin, and wide golden eyes sat upon the plane of his frame. A little frog spirit. It croaked its little song.

The man's lips spread with smug confidence. "Ah, there it is," and he finished scooping his winnings into his coin purse. Pulled the strings tight, and worked himself up from the bamboo sitting mat.

He would have turned to leave, but noticed his half full cup still down on the mat. He bent low, and picked up the clay cup, downed the drink, and handed it off the to overly serious letai. "Here," he said brusquely. "Might still be a raakgui there at the bottom of this cup too," The little frog hopped from his shoulder and disappeared with a chirrup.
 
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Enough ceramics had been dropped for the day, and so Juusha caught the cup that was shoved towards her, eyes widening out of her scowl and ears perking up in concentration. Both hands held gingerly onto it, before she realized what she was doing.

"Hey, wait!"
Juusha tossed the cup at an attendant who was passing by, and went after the shaman making his exit. She stopped on the stone steps of the gambling house, and called out to him before he went into the street. "Hazanko Miya! I know who you are, Mistborne. And I wish my sources were less accurate, but they're always right, so I know you're a damned legend."

She took the steps down three at a time, and swished to a stop in front of Miya, blocking his path.

"There's a a cursed spirit roaming this district, one that must be contained before it claims any victims. And --" Juusha's eyes squeezed shut as she scrunched up her face. She balled her fists at her sides, and tapped her bootheels down once onto the cobblestone. "And I need your help!"

Someone like her, a blade from the Iron clan, could only cut up a Raakgui into a thousand pieces. They weren't any good at catching or calming spirits. This part could be extrapolated.
 
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He didn't wait. His strides saw him out the door, and down the steps with a quickness, his hand busy as it worked his scarf over the lower half of his face, thumb sliding across fine fabric, hooked to pull it over the top of his head.

She called out his name, called out his title. That got him to stop. When she appeared before him, he stared down at her, cold and removed.

A few of those around slowed to gawk at the scene.

Whispers of Mistborne and Ironborne.

"Do you think she will take his head?"

"Spirits above and below,"

Hazanko's stare did not break from the woman's. He smirked. He chuckled. His eyes squint shut, and his shoulders bounced as he doubled over. Laughed louder and louder.

The onlooker's shook their head in confusion and ambled on.
 
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Too long of a time passed without the shaman saying anything. Juusha felt herself growing hotter under his gaze, but she didn't stop her stubborn glare upwards. Ears swiveled at the sound of passersby muttering gossip to each other, and she was about to turn round and tell them off, when Miya did something unexpected.

He laughed.

"What's so funny!?" she spat out. Juusha growled a cat-growl in turn, the hairs on her tail poofing out. "People could be in danger, and you're laughing?"
 
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He wheezed as he gathered himself up. Wiped a tear from his eye.

"Yeah?" he said, half grinning as his mouth hung open and he flicked the wet away. "Why don't you go and cut it down then," he showed his teeth. "Ironborne?"

He finished putting his hood up over his head.

"You could care less about the dear,
people," his smirk was hidden, but the satisfaction showed in his eyes. "You have a contract you are trying to fulfill, and you are seeing if I'll help you out of the goodness of my blooded heart,"

He stepped around her, and made away once more. "Sides," he said over his shoulder. "You don't much look like you can afford a legend,"
 
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Fur smoothed over and hackles lowered as soon as Juusha realized her ploy had been exposed. (Vainly, she wondered if it would have worked, had she been a couple of years younger.) Almost immediately, her posture shifted. She stood relaxed and proud, her palms held open at her side, swaying lightly next to her swords.

Of course, he was right. There wasn't an innocent shaman left on this island. People just couldn't go through what they did, and come out the other end happy.

She fell into step behind the mistborne, no longer trying to overtake him, but not letting him dodge away either. "It would certainly pay better than swindling dice dealers out of their pocket change."

The cart driver that had taken her here spluttered as the two marched past his bird. "Hey miss, do you still want me to wait for ya?" he called after her.

Juusha ignored the driver. "The Raakgui that escaped belongs to one of the Intendant families." She quickened her pace to get closer to the man, and lowered her voice. "Imagine the consequences, then, if word gets out that the family's blessing comes from a Cursed, and not a Divine spirit. Even the commoners will be able to tell the difference, with it running loose like this."
 
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Hazanko made a sounds of feigned agreement. "Be a whole lot more work, too," he grumbled. Made his way down a set of stone steps that took them off the main street and down an alley between the old brick buildings.

"Of the Eight Intendant families housed at court, three keep cursed spirits," he said as his fingers found a loose brick. He pressed the brick down, and a small portion of the wall slid away. Inside the cache lay a sheathed sword and dagger, along with an ornate bow, and a quiver full of arrows. He made quick work slipping them on. He stopped, fastned his sword and dagger to his hip. Eyed the woman. "Which one are you dealing with?"
 
At the mention of the eight families, Juusha let out a huff of air.

She'd turned her back to keep watch over the alley's entrance while Miya recovered his hidden weapons. Even a washed up scoundrel like him deserved to have some secrets respected.

"Aembi, great spirit of greed."
She turned back round to face the newly equipped shaman. The shadow of her hat left her face as she tilted her chin upwards. Red eyes flashed in the midday sun, eager. "Don't ask me what it does. It's never supposed to leave its jar, after all."
 
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"Aembi," he said with a measure of awe in his voice, his attention back to getting the measure of his gear just right. "So, the Rakugan family has lost the great toad," he smirked, and slipped his unstrung bow onto his back. "Here I heard, they'd hired an Ironborne to transport it," his eyes checked her once more. "Pot and all,"
 
"Not transport it, recover it," Juusha corrected. "If it had already been in my possession, then I wouldn't have--"

She snapped her teeth shut before she could say it. I wouldn't have dropped it.

"Investigative work is not necessary." she started again. "I only need your help to contain Aembi, I can find it on my own. So keep your mouth shut until we get there."

Avoiding that smug look the old shaman gave her, Juusha turned on her heels. She kept her chin up high as she stepped out of the alleyway.
 
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"Bold of you to assume I'll help," he said as she left the alleyway.

From a swirl of mist at his shoulder appeared the small frog, blue skinned and white spotted. It made its little kirrup.

"Suppose there is no accounting for fools though," he smirked, stretched his arms, twist his hips, and made after her. The little frog vanished.



"Huh, boss, you, sure we can trust that Kazumichi?" A tall man stalked behind a squat dwarf woman.

"No, Feng, we can't trust, Kazumichi, the bastard is Mist clan, but what choice do we have?" she grumbled as she went on, down the busy streets. Her and her crew were dressed in common garb, no seals or insignia to mark them. "But, can't right track raakgui as well as he can, can we?"

Feng gave a meek nod, which had the small tuft of hair atop his mostly bald head bob. "R-right, that makes sense boss
,"

"And the newt won't try anything funny, because he owes us,"

"And we have his brother,"
the big one added.

The dwarf woman hooked at the big man's leg with a grunt.

"Owe!"

"Shut up! You talk to damn much," she huffed. "You don't see Long running his mouth all the time, do you?"

Long, was as tall as Feng, near half as wide, with gaunt sunken features. He only nod, and set his long braid of black hair to motion.

Up ahead, a scarfed figure stood before an abandoned apartment complex. "It's here," his voice was quiet and sullen.

"Better be," the dwarf woman said. "Well, go on then, Kazumichi," she grinned. "Lead the way,"

Kazumichi shut his eyes, took in a breath, and pulled forth a paper talisman from his sleeve. He held it out before him, between his forefinger and middle, and it stayed tall and straight. Ink characters began to pour across its plane, symbols and seals. One, the largest, in the shape of an eye. A snap of his wrist saw the talisman streak forward.

It hit the far wall of the room, and plastered itself upward. Its seals glowed blue. Kazumichi drew another talisman from his sleeve as he entered the room.

The dwarf and her two associates followed after.

It was from the vantage point of a nearby rooftop that Hazanko and his own associate watched the scene unfold. "Heh," he laughed. "You didn't mention anything about rival shaman, little miss," he drew his bow from his back, and took an arrow from one of the six divided chambers of his quiver. Knocked it. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised though," he looked across the way, raised up the bow, and let fly the arrow.

It plunked into a column of wood that showed on the exterior façade. Script along its shaft burned blue, and the wood caught flame. Characters and seals spread out like roots from a tree from the embedded stone arrowhead, until they formed a circular seal of ash.

"Lot of money to be made on a spirit like Aembi," he grinned, wide and with excitement. "Shame to see Kazumichi mixed in with a lot like that though," he tut his tongue. "Pups gotta learn some day though,"

He made to move. Remembered something.

"Well, you ready?"
 
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A huff of air left Juusha as the old shaman blabbered on. Squat low atop the roof, she watched as Miya sealed the complex down. Her ears were flat against her head. "I didn't mention the hunters because they won't be a problem."

She said it so surely, but of course nothing was sure with a spirit this large at stake. Her eyes widened to thin red rings as she watched the rival shaman disappear into the half-rotted entrance of the abandoned apartments. They all looked pretty manageable, except for that fellow that the old shaman identified as Kazumichi.

"I am ready," she said, without so much as a nod. "Keep your concerns on Aembi. I will make sure those lot do not get in the way."

She readied to go, but something had her pause. A hand went to her sword as she looked up at Miya from underneath ragged bangs. It was the longer blade her fingers wrapped around, cast of steel, a silver bell charm dangling from its pommel. "You don't have any attachments to this Kazumichi, do you? I am bound to kill anyone who risks harm upon the great spirit. Even a cursed Raakgui is holy, after all."
 
A laugh came from the Shaman's throat. A click of teeth soon after. "I'll keep my concerns where they please me, Ironborn," he asserted.

His eyes fell to the sword at her hip, as he slung his bow over his shoulder. The Iron Clan had less qualms when it came to using the long blade of death. Though, the Mist were known for their mercurial disposition.

"Kazumichi is of my Clan," he stated firmly. "Do you go around killing those of the Iron without any regard for the weight of their blood? The measure of their spirit?" he he shook his head, clicked his teeth once more, crossed his arms behind his back. "Suppose it makes no differnece one way or the other," his lips spread to a grin, but his eyes were hard with anger.

He turned toward the building, and the scrawl of characters and script that sealed the side of the buildings wall. A boundary that trapped the spirits within.



Inside, a paper talisman struck the side of one wall. Its scrawl of lettering glowed feint blue, though the center eye came shut and pulsed purple.

Kazumichi's eyes widened. His breath shortened as he came to a stop.

"Ay, what is it there, mist dog?" the dwarf narrowed her eyes.

Silence.

Motioned to Feng, who frowned, nod, and lumbered over. A heavy hand thump across Kazumichi's shoulder. "Did you not hear the boss?"

Kazumichi (2).pngThe Mist Shaman's eyes came shut. "Aembi is here,"

"What?"


A low rumble quaked through the interior of the building. Rattled the bones beneath their flesh.

Feng near fell down. The dwarf clung to Long's leg, and Kazumichi stood still, with a talisman drawn betwixt his fingers. His breath calm. Steady.

 
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Not a word came out of Juusha as the old shaman hurled his accusations at her. His questions were not ones worth answering. She had not become a Repentant because of her skill with a sword alone.

An Iron shaman could not draw their sword, without knowing the weight of the life they took. It was simply not possible.

Remaining silent. Juusha scowled as they came upon the entrance of the warehouse. She looked up at the aging structure, saw the script burned there in one of the tall columns.

Then, she stepped through the threshold.

____

The main entrance room was empty. The other hunters must have already ventured further into the interior, in their search for the spirit. Echoing footsteps took her across the abandoned room. Multiple floors of rooms towered above them, connected by a coiling staircase. The center of the building was open, revealing the railings of each floor, and high above sunlight filtered through cracks in the roof.

A rumble shook the rafters above. Dust fell in fat flakes, as decades of disuse were disturbed by new movement. Gnawing hunger filled Juusha's gut. She felt as if she had been full before, and a shadow now loomed, reaching out to take something away from her.

Her heart quickened, and her hand went to the other sword, the shorter blade with the gold tassle. Stuck fast in its sheathe. She spun in place, and saw nothing, the shadow only growing stronger. Then, a door slipped open and shut deeper into the compound, and the feeling passed.

A breath of air left Juusha's lungs. Not really there at all, she suspected. The strength of Aembi's will would already be twisting this space to fit its needs. She turned again to speak to Miya, only to find the man already gone. She clicked her tongue, and continued on alone.

"I should have asked him about Aembi's shape," she said to herself as she ascended the first flight of stairs. A trail of paper talismans told her where to go. "He seemed like he knew."
 
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A crash rumbled through the ground. The wooden pillars that were evenly spaced throughout the bottom entry chamber shook, debris fell from the loose clay ceiling and cracked against the dusty floorboards.

A rush of dust and shrapnel washed down the ascending staircase like a billowing river. The air shook with the sound of a loud croak, buzzed the hairs between the ears. In the next room, Hazanko Miya stood with his bow drawn, his legs bent, and his body tensed as as his fingers hovered at the ready. One hand held fast his bow. The other ready to grab for an arrow as dust swirled and settled about his feet.

Before him, was a great cloud of inky black smoke.

"Feng! Feng!" The dwarven agent called out

A series of seals illuminated from the hidden darkness, a burst of wind and water, saw a sphere of air cleansed, and paper talismans float before the Fox masked Kazumichi in a circular array that was around him.

With his hands clasped at his center, Kazumichi cut the seals of four mudras. The Inner Lion. The Outer Lion. The Ring of the Moons, Day Star, and Earth. The Wisdom.

The talismans spun about him. fell into a line behind each other and formed an array before him like the fans of a windmill. Kazumichi raised the pointer and middle finger of one hand up high, arm at full stretch, and he traced round the edge of the fanned circle. The talisman's spun in turn. The air stirred, more and more with each revolution of the array.

The ink colored smoke was drawn in to the center of the circle of talismans, and dissipated, clearing the field.

The dwarf, stood beside Kazumichi. Long's legs hung out a great maw. The Toad of Greedful Glutonny, Aembi. Purple skinned and golden eyed, with proud black stripes and spots along its prickly skin. Thick ropes of black silk rapped around its waist like ceremonial garb, and upon its back, within its pockmarked flesh, was Feng, encased in a clear membrane.

He screamed and struggled, and his complexion seemed to age, more and more with each moment that passed.
 
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Screams came from up ahead, the next room over. It was time! Grinning wild, Juusha set her pace long and bound through the torn paper of the thin warehouse walls. Soon she came upon the grim scene. Aembi, already digesting one of the fool hunters, and on its way to swallowing another one.

That wouldn't do. If Aembi was allowed to feed, it might become too strong to reseal.

Juusha skidded to a halt and loosed the short blade from her side, sheath and all. The golden bells upon its pommel made no sound as they swung freely against the sword's handle.

"The secrets hidden in the body, the spoken secrets, and the secret will - mortals and raakgui share these things." She spoke aloud the invocation, her words steady, well-practiced. "When the true Shape, Sound and Spirit are revealed, my Blade will be drawn."

She stood perfectly still. The sheathed blade, held parallel to the ground, cut a line across her face.

"I, Repentant, see the Shape of this raakgui... Aembi, toad of greed, who swallows life."


The golden bells rang once, and one of three symbols at the edge of the sheath gleamed with light.

One truth would not be enough to draw her blade and harm the spirit, but Aembi still took notice. Its bulging yellow eye turned to her. The hunter's kicking legs stuck comically out of its mouth.

Grin stretched, Juusha lept up with cat's grace high above the spirit. A single foot landed on Aembi's nose. Aembi opened its maw wide to swallow her and her shiny trinkets all the same time. But she dove with a leap off its nose and grabbed the entrapped hunter by his belt. They both fell free of Aembi's maw, tumbling to the ground in an awkward heap.

Juusha kicked the lanky, long-haired hunter away from her. "Ugh, you're all slimy," she complained.

"Long!"
called out the dwarf that stood nearby, next to Kazumichi. She ran to his side, and pulled him up to sitting. "Are you alright?!" Long nodded his head, but then hacked out a wet cough.

Juusha was already up, and turning to face Aembi once more. The great toad was... laughing? It squinted its eyes upwards and a rumbling sound had its throat puff like a smith's bellows.

"Hey!"
The dwarven woman behind Juusha called out. "Where'd you come from? Who are you?!"

Red eyes narrowed, a glance backwards. "Someone you'll leave be, if you want to survive this."
 
An arrow nocked against the hornwood limbs of Hazanko's ornate bow. Its own talismans hung from the curve of its branches, silver coins that glittered in that light that filtered through the edifice. How they jingled with the flex of his arm. With the run of tension through his arm.

"You Ironborne and your three forms," he let fly the arrow. It sailed in a whistling arc through the air. Stuck down by Aembi's hind leg. "You got them- hrn" a shift in weight, his legs sprung him out of the place that saw the toad's sticky tongue smashed against. Kicked up dirt sprayed adhesive saliva around.

Hazanko stepped light against the floor. Settled into his stance. His hand jerked to nock and pull his second arrow. Yet, he felt no feathers betwixt his fingers. His eyes looked down. Saw an empty hand, looked across, and saw his arrow stuck to the great toad's expulsed appendage.

A laugh, half impressed, came from the back of the shaman's throat. His fingers reached for another arrow.

The man in the pustules grew older still. Looked twice the age he had before he had been ingested.

Kazumicchi snatched one of the the arrayed talismans that cycled before him. With a flick of the wrist, the paper resnapped into its rigid shape. The inks upon its surface shifted. Changed. New symbols, new seals. With his off hand, the young Mistborne sealed signs of new mudras. Cut his hand forward, an open palm pointed toward the toad.

A snap of the arm, a twist of the hips, the paper talisman flew forward and struck the toad and plastered itself across its purple skin. The seals burned and smoked. Aembi thrashed about. The pustules upon his back began to pop. Sprayed their strange fluid out with each successive burst of translucent flesh.


Juusha Khuam
 
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What was that foolish Mist boy doing? Juusha scowled as she watched the paper talisman find its mark, watched Aembi lash out in pain at the clumsy attempt to quell it.

A webbed foot crashed down upon the place where Juusha stood. She leapt. Another foot swiped at her, kicking up debris with its force, and this one she could not avoid. She went tumbling across the room, struggling to keep her grip on the sword. On the last bounce, Juusha righted herself. She landed on her feet, and came skidding to a stop.

Before her, the great toad oozed. The dwarven woman was doing her best to drag her companion away. The digestive liquid pooled around them, creeping ever closer. "Don't touch it!" the woman called out. "It'll sap the very life from you!"

Swearing under her breath, Juusha cursed her bad luck. She needed to buy the shaman enough time to seal the spirit. She needed Aembi to pay attention to her. But in order to do that, she needed...

Juusha gripped her blade firmly, held it aloft once again. "Aembi, great toad! Tell me your spoken secrets! Why do you take our life? What do you want with so many years?"

"Stay,"
came the croak like a bubble up from a lake's cold depths. Another one of the pustules upon Aembi's back popped. The captured mercenary slushed out with a gush of the clear fluid. Aembi felt the loss, and reached round to pick the unconcious man up in its massive, webbed hand. Its mouth opened wide, and its voice echoed high in the rafters. "Stay with me."
 
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Kazumichi's eyes went wide as Aembi held up the man. His hand snapped out once more, fingers snatched a second talisman, and the wheel of sealed markers spun again, closing the circumference of their circle tighter. Another whip of his arm, and the enchanted paper struck forth with a blade's sharpness.

The talisman slapped against Aembi's arm. Its seals bled across the great raakgui's midnight flesh. Its skin turned to stone, and the great toad could not let go of the man it was trying to eat.


"Stay..." it's haunted voice called out with a croak. It's eyes parabolic eye shift in its socket, and the black scar of its pupil fixed on Kazumichi. "With me." It's mouth snapped shut, and opened again to fire its long tongue out.

The fox masked mistborne leapt away. But with a thrash of its bulk, Aembi whipped its tongue after him. The circle of seals was smashed away, and the long sticky chord of tongue snapped around the young shaman.

Hazanko growled, and let fly another arrow. It sank, North of Aembi. A third sank East. The forth kncoed against his bow, and he drew in a long breath. The silver coins glimmered and chimed against each other as mist swirled about the arrow's head.
 
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A smile tilted Juusha's lips, and her eyes were soft with sorrow. "I see," she said. "Not to consume, but to preserve. You want everyone to live as long as you."

A chime came from the golden bells. Another rune lit up, leaving but one dull and smooth upon the sheathe of her sword.

Aembi was inconsolable, thrashing against its stone arm. The fox-masked shaman's figure rose up, caught. He struggled as Aembi's tongue coiled, drawing him in to its gaping maw. Eyes narrowing at the sight, Juusha pushed her weight forward to run at the great raakgui. She was not fast enough this time.

With a wet snap, Kazumichi disappeared into the bowls of the spirit. There was a moment of stillness. Ripples in the slime at the toad's feet went flat. Its eyes bulged in its head, looking heavenward, and even the blubbering mercenaries seemed to hold their breath.

"STAAAAY--" The great spirit bellowed out, a cry mixed with agony. It's atramentous mass shook, and from the center of its belly glowed a circle of blue talismans. The symbols snaked together, re-spun themselves, forming an eye within an eye.

"Shit!" Juusha spat out. She went to running again, circling the spirit in long, leaping steps. "That kid's going to kill it! Do something, you forsaken Mistborne!!"

From the burst pustules upon Aembi's back, a multitude of arms sprung out like untrimmed branches. Aembi rolled with all its limbs, tearing down planks from floors above and splitting columns. The building shook and groaned with its panic, threatening to come down.

Foot after hand after foot bounced down around Juusha as she struggled to not become paste. A long limb came crashing down, and crumpled the floorboards beneath her stride. She flew up into the air, tumbling against the force.

Grey fluff poofed out from underneath her robes. In an instant, Juusha's delicate features disappeared in a mess of bulk and fur. Bewhiskered and claw-drawn, Juusha landed back down on all four paws.

Another of Aembi's limbs grasped at her. She raised her arms and caught the blow, pushed the heavy thing off her. With a leapt and a land, she sunk her claws into one of Aembi's limbs and ran up it towards its center. A mess of midnight flesh reached for her. Soon as she had dodged one, another hand shot forward to grasp her.

Twisting through the mess, she landed upon its back. The great toad hugged itself. Its back shifted with the oily form of its many congealed limbs. Juusha shot up from the tangle, her sheathed sword poised in her hands. On the downward, she swung with all her might, and a blow of dull force rang like a bell's chime through the ruined warehouse.

Aembi lurched and reared up, and bared its tender underbelly. The eyes emblazoned there burned, almost bursting.

When Juusha spoke next, it was with a cat's gravely yowl.

"NROW, MIYAH!"
 
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Hazanko stood with arrow aimed, his eyes shut as he said with whispers from his lips. "With Strength, Wisdom, and Soul shown true, Aembi, Lonely Lord of Gluttony, head the four stars of cosmic direction!" his eyes came open, and they burned star bright, as the arrows stuck into the floor swirled with silver fire. "Trapped by the east, and west,"

Brighter and brighter did Kazumichi's seals burn.

The blue mist that swirled about Hazanko's arrow turned to silver trails as he pulled the bowstring back. The silver coins that had rattled and chimed now fell silent. Still as stones at the bottom of a mirror calm lake.

Each coin spun fast as pinwheels, and wound their blue strings into tight coils.

"South!"

The bowstring twanged. The arrow split though the veil of silver mist, and struck down to the southern point of the arrows arrayed. White-blue-silver light cut across the stone floor in a web of currents. Bands, thick across the tiled floor, as pieces of the ceiling crumbled and fell.

Seals showed there in the bands as lightless relief. The seal upon Aembi's underbelly bled down into the glyphs. The ink from the talisman's seemed to drip into the celestial seal, seemed to feed its power as the light that burned across its trace turned brighter.

Aembi seemed frozen in time. Their whole mass caught in a stasis of blue as they lifted from the floor.


"Let the tails of the Phoenix guide you! With Dragon's Wisdom, Tiger's Strength, and Turtle's Soul! Aembi!" Hazanko shout, his hands aligned with the path of his chakras, betwixt the pool of heart, and the pool of voice. His hands cut the mudras of the outer lion, the inner lion, and the great thunderbolt. A seal traced beneath the shaman, made of light like that one that traced about the great toad. Lines of celestial light pinged off of the perimeter of the sacred shape. Those same seals and scripts that webbed beneath the raakgui of greed.

One hand snapped up into the air. A ring above him formed, mirroring that brilliant light of the one below him. A bolt of lightning crashed down upon Hazanko. Energy splashed through him. Electric and thunderous. The great ring beneath Aembi too mirrored the great toad, and a storm of light flashed down upon its trapped form.

The room went white with light.
 
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An unadorned white room with cypress floors, swept clean. Juusha stood in the middle of it, alone. She was out of her armor, and out of her fur, clothed in the simple grey robes of the Iron clan. The heat of battle was gone, nothing but her quickened breath and the sweat upon her brow to tell the tale. In the room, there was a door on each wall, four vibrant murals painted on the paper of each wall.

Juusha inhaled deep and wide, and stilled her breath with a sigh. "The cardinal directions, huh? How inconvenient." An ongoing debate between Iron and Mist - whether there were three heavenly truths or four. Not that the clans ever had much time to sit down and talk. But it was the Mistborne's seal she was stuck in, so she'd better follow his rules. "Alright, I pick South."

She stepped toward the door painted with the colorful visage of a phoenix in flight. Its tail feathers spread out in a vibrant array of eight, one for each of the Intendant, and its eyes were the colors of the two moons.

Behind the door, another room shone bright with afternoon sun. A low hung table squatted at its center, cushions laid about. Seated at one end of the table, was a man dressed in thick layers of robes - black, purple, gold. Obscuring his face was a mask carved in the shape of a frog. Bright yellow eyes bulged above round cheeks, and the wide purple mouth split across the breadth of the mask, agape.

The masked spirit beckoned to Juusha. "Where are you going?" It asked in an echoing voice. "Come sit down for a moment and rest. Just a moment. Maybe I can give you..." The room shifted, darkened. Juusha's hands pushed out to steady herself, as a crack split across the floorboards underfoot. "Direction."

The moment passed. The floor held, and the spirit remained seated. Waiting for her answer. Juusha steeled herself again the Raakgui, her grip on her gilded sword tight. "Aembi," she responded. "I know where I am going, and I am not tired. Let me be on my way--"
 
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