Curse

OlMurraniKasale · Jul 07, 2006, 04:05 PM // 16:05

“Her armor is stained red with the blood of the Am Fah!” One of the gaggle of Jade Brothers replied, his comrades’ laughter assailing the walls of tavern - the snick of daggers from sheaths and at the ready telling another tale.

“And who has seen this?” An Am Fah asked, silencing the laughter. “Who has actually seen the Old Warrior of the Hill?” No one spoke. “She is a ghost, how could any of us know of her. Jade Brothers are nothing but wagging women anyway.”

“Good people,” the tavern-owner pleaded, “Please, let us drink and stay dry tonight.”

No one disputed him, nor would they – his warrior’s bulk, though now older than his legionnaire days, and his standing rule that no one may start a fight in his tavern kept the peace well enough. The drizzle and the winds howled outside the ramshackle tavern nearest the gates to the UnderCity, the stone pillars leading into that warren looking like the twin mountains of Shing Jea. Lu Chi’s tavern was always a spot for traders and street vermin, and tonight there were a dozen of each filling the small clapboard room.

Not to be outdone by his own men, Am Fah Serfh bolted back some of Kaineng’s finest, then spoke. “What does the Jade Brotherhood know of ghosts?! I mean real ghosts! Not the spook stories told of by their fat, ugly women!”

Laughter from several of the other Am Fah seated around the table with Serfh fell away at the dour looks of the Jades – though they had kept mostly to themselves tonight, they looked ready for a fight.

“I’m talking about real specters,” Serfh continued. “Like the creatures that invaded Shing Jea! I heard the beasts rip your spirit from your body as leisurely as if a breeze across the Nahpui Quarter. I heard they were running amok inside the monastery during the festival, and made off with a bunch of soft-skinned monastery acolytes! Maybe they got Brother Tosai, ya think?”

The group of Am Fah had waited for the man named Tosai for over six hours here in this tavern, and as yet had heard nothing from him since the early morning. Respected by many, Tosai had been meeting with discrete groups of Am Fah these last few weeks – tonight was their turn.

“I have seen Ol Murrani Kasale,” an old man said, his voice as much a warren of secrets as the UnderCity just beyond the door. “I have seen the work of the Zaishen and all their ilk, back when I sailed . . . when I was younger . . ..” The wind outside howled, which was not particularly different on this night except that the whole of Lu Chi’s tavern had gone silent. The old man knew a lot of things. No one wanted to miss some story or snippet of wisdom from this old sea-faring codger, but he simply went back to his drink.

“Yeah, there’s them,” Serfh said finally. “The Zaishen.” He turned to the tavern-master, bellowing out for more brew. “And there are the other ones too, I heard of them. Guild Budo, that’s their name right? The Old Warrior of the Hill is their headmaster, yes?”

Lu Chi coughed loudly when Serfh spoke of that Zaishen Order guild, nearly spilling the brew onto the Am Fah’s ragged, but yet finely decorated outfit. “My apologies, Sir . . . but we . . . we don’t mention them here.”

Serfh laughed. “Them? The Budo Guild?” He threw his arms up and danced in a small circle, laughing. “The Budo Guild,” he bellowed, causing all to turn at the loudness of his voice and derision in his tone. “Elite Zaishen come to save us from the Affliction, to protect us from the ghost of Shiro Tagachi! How noble and mysterious!”

With that, he threw the offered mug against the far wall where it clattered wildly against the shelves filled with brews. He continued to laugh at Lu Chi until he noticed that no one was paying attention to them at all. He turned to see the door of the tavern had been opened. The howling wind barely whispered across his ears as a woman entered, a black woman wearing the most intricate Kurzick armor he had ever seen – amber and steel glistening in the candlelight, trimmed in red. The armor itself made no noise as she walked, and no one said anything as she took a short path through the crowd of tables to sit at the center of the tavern. The old man who had spoken earlier looked white as he stared at the newest guest.

To Serfh, her armor looked as if trimmed in blood.

Shaking off the image, the Am Fah pulled Lu Chi’s shoulder round from the woman who had entered, leering into the man’s somber face. “What say you, tavern-master? What say you of the Bushi? Are they as fearsome as they say?”

Lu Chi closed the small space between them, staring eye for eye, whispering, “We do not tarry too long in the darkness. That is where the Zaishen Bushi work.”

Serfh turned to his mates and pointed to the tavern-master. “There you have it! A wive’s tale, and a bad brew to boot.”

The door of the bar opened again, startling everyone as it banged against the wall. All watched as the woman stepped back out into the storm. A patron sitting next to where the woman had temporarily stationed herself held up a small bag. “Hey! You forgot this!”

Serfh watched as the bag slid open at the bottom, and a round object dropped to the floor. People scattered, pushing up against the walls. A Jade Wind orb? Serfh pushed away a table and kicked the object out. He stared into the eyes of Brother Tosai, the man’s head only lightly covered in blood. A simple straight gash marked the forehead, glistening under the swinging candle lights, really just the skull underneath where the skin had been cut away. The Mark of Zaishen Guild Budo.

The door continued its hectic banging as the rainstorm blew through the narrow streets and between the stone pillars of the UnderCity. The woman could be seen walking through them and vanishing into the darkness there. The seven Am Fah voted to have another round since apparently the meeting with Brother Tosai down in the maze had been cut short - one even suggested it might be time to go back to farming near Tsumei.