Muted shapes flit through the green jade walls of his prison. He slumbered, long slow thoughts tailing the motions which blurred past. Bafuru wept as his swamp was won back from him – bucket load by bucket load, the mire firmed – beautiful lilies churned into fertile soil. He screamed with rage as iron blades raked through his soil, replacing his beautiful banks of reeds, rustling gently in the cool winter breeze, with the garish gold of foreign weeds. He laughed with glee as the witches struck back, blighting crops – sending his creatures to bite and sting the things that dared touch his lands with their weeds and their iron. He bemoaned the blessings which stung him, even here, in his cold prison – spells to ward of the witches efforts, spells to shield from disease and spells to coax yellow infestation into new growth and finally he slept again, long slow miserable thoughts – his lessers, the demons of bog and mire changing to the new land to which they were tied. Traitors! Becoming things of crop, ploughed soil and livestock – creatures whose only place was to drown at the bottom of his wallows, blood feeding his strength.

Miyoko Rasenagi - the Black Witch, Mouth in the Cult of Bafuru’s Kiss – looks over her wards absentmindedly as she pens another poem,


She sighs, those beautiful flowers were so out of reach now – she’d only ever seen one, crushed and dried in the pages of her mother’s books. She set pen and paper aside, turning away from her poems and her calligraphy to tend to the children who populated her crèche, small bobbly heads swarming around her as she re-enters. She was a much loved favourite amongst all the carers, small wonder than that despite her tender age she ran such a successful crèche. Despite her own popularity – both with children and their parents, her family was not well loved, her mother accused of witch-craft and oni-worship. The name Ayani a curse word amongst the townsfolk – her grandmother Kairi a bogey-man to frighten children into behaving,
“Don’t stay up past your bed-time or Oba-Kairi will come and steal away your eyes”. Miyoko’s thin, pale, lips quirk into a half-smile, a hand running thoughtfully through long raven-black hair. She remembered her grandmother as a kindly old woman – one who had treated her to onagri and beancurd sweets, never had she tasted the corn and wheat which was the staple of most people in the city. Her grandmother was no different from any other, save she knew how to do things the others couldn’t, how to summon and banish insects – ward of demons. To Miyoko she was a great woman, a powerful woman and was honoured to take the path of the Mouth in her footsteps.
Miyoko smiled, turning back to her charges.

Sneaky shapeshifters
 

The old man shrugs at Takin's reply, "I thought I heard a strange noise for a moment. It must have just been my imagination." He peers myopically at the grenade Takin is holding. "What is that?"

With Takin now safely raving about the joys of explosive mixtures, heeding only the occasional nod or monosyllable to keep him going, Kirakiri considers what to do next. Several minutes later his lookout uses his token to report someone coming to the ship. The shapeshifter considers this also.

While succesful in not acting as a distraction, his listening act's failure has certain desirable consequences. The theft of the legs will not be discovered until later and it gives him an alibi - it would make his presence here look like coincidence as he had seemed to hear the theft taking place. If no opportunity to do away with Takin presents itself in a convenient timeframe, Kirakiri can simply walk away. For now he simply, waits and listens, contemplating Takin's demise.

The faux guards see Pyro's honoured visitor tag and reply, "Certainly. Your companion Takin is inside with an old man from the village, some sort of inventor apparently. Please continue."


Emerging from the living portal of the Shinkei no Oni which folds back down into its normal form behind him, Takashi immediately goes to report the successful recovery of the legs.

Finding Raikotsu and Konpaku near a human woman, Takashi approaches them and states the obvious, "The recovery of the legs has been successful. Lord Kirakiri has remained behind to attempt additional sabotage. The attack can now be launched."

Seeing Raikotsu's hesitation and how it involves Koyuki, the spellcaster pauses and then speaks, phrasing his words delicately, "I could not help but overhear you before. Through the Shinkei no Oni, I can summon an individual who has skills well suited to a delicate task such as this. She possesses power over life and death itself."

Raikotsu looks at him piercingly, "And who is this individual?"

"Lord Kirakiri's daughter, Sakiko. She was sired by the Ikioitosendo no Oni." That was a mighty and truely primeval demon, millenia old and said to be the last of its kind until some lesser spawn of it appeared in the last two centuries. The great beast had been difficult to rouse and control but a true terror on the battlefield. It had eventually died from extreme age, virtually unheard of for demons like it.

OOC: Hmm, might be overplaying the dread about the Ikioitosendo no Oni but I wanted to get the point across. You might notice something a little odd about Takashi's last sentence. Its deliberate. Anyway, now we can get on with the attack. I'm sure everyone's itching for it.

OOC: The actual attack will occur in the dark, misty, rainy morning of the next day.

IC: "Sakiko...bring her to me. If she heals Koyuki's body, I won't have to worry about the danger of forcing her soul back into it." Raikotsu then waved over the nearest of the Vanguard troops.

"Tell your commanders to begin their final preparations. We attack the island at dawn. We will teach those fools what happens to those who aid our enemies. Their lord brought his friends here, and it is time for his people to learn that he is also responsible for his enemies."

White Kimono (Tsubasa Hirasaka)
"That was all that he had to say?" Tsubasa said after the captain delivered her report.
"Yes, my lady."
Tsubasa stood up from the stone she was sitting on and nodded. "Understood. Go ahead and spread the word. Standard formation until we know what we're going to face."
"Yes, my lady."
That was the gist of it. The captain knew her orders and didn't need any specifics. They would be ready. Tsubasa ran her fingers through her pure white hair and waited for Kirie and Chiyo to return.

"It is good that you have returned, Konpaku. I require you to scout the enemy fortifications, and show me the appearance of each enemy commander...I have certain troops who will require that information, assassins of my own people." Raikotsu nodded his head, seemingly unsurprised by the change in Konpaku's appearance, probably because the body looked relatively useless anyway.

Pyros thanked the two men, by bowing to them.

Pyros was puzzled at the fact they wore the garb of the islander guards, but seemed to be different in skin tone from the rest of the islanders ( from what he could see in the dark.) Oh well, it could just be that they either got less or more sun than the others. Or they were part of some religion. Either way, it was none of Pyros' business.

When he stepped near the door, he felt as if something was wrong, but it wasn't anything truly bad. More like something impending; about to happen.

"Hey, Takin! Are you sure that the cannon thingy won't explode for awhile? I got this bad feeling about it." Pyros called out. "Takin?" Pyros turned a corner and saw a flower blooming from a nearby wall.

Definitely a good idea to have gotten repair metal for the cannon.

"Takin?" Pyros bounded down the steps into the more technical areas of the ship, below the living quarters. Here machinery clunked away, various doohickeys and thingamabobs doing some kind of work. He caught Takin's smell up ahead. "Hey Takin! I'm back!"

(OOC: It occurs to me, that this thread is as dead as fish shot in the head. Hee hee. I made a rhymie.)