OOC: As you wish, Kughii
IC (Ambush Party)
The Dastana-sympathisers' ambush had the advantage of numbers. Most of them were huddled behind the makeshift barricades, but those with a good eye had broken into buildings with high windows to snipe down at the Imperial forces.
One particularly quiet Ringti had managed to sneak around and into a two-storey earthenware shop, from the upper windows of which she just could see the remaining Imperials in their alley around the corner.
She carried no bow, but the danger of Ringti always lay in their resourcefulness. From a bag at her waist, she withdrew a glass bottle. It contained an orange-brown liquid, and was stoppered with a cork from which poked a short oil-soaked fuse. Peering over the window-sill at the clustered women in the alley, she struck a match and lit the cord, then stood up from her hiding-place and hurled the bottle through the window with all her might.
It sailed through the air towards the alley.
IC (Ageru housekeeper)
The Dashi nodded.
'Good day to you, sir.'
She closed the door.
The door of the building was opened by a Dashi in robes that were recognisable as those of a healer. Her eyes widened a little as she recognised Kilanya.
'Toroshu,' she addressed her respectfully, bowing. 'My name is Gysha. What brings you to our humble place of healing?'
Kilanya smiled graciously, hands clasped loosely behind her back as she looked down at the shorter woman.
'My pleasure to meet you, Gysha,' she said. 'I am here to visit Nihi's sister.'
Gysha's eyes widened again, this time in more profound surprise.
'Nachi?' she said. 'Well, of course, whatever you wish, Toroshu...it would not be my place to ask your reasons, of course, but I'm afraid you're likely to be disappointed...'
The Dashi led her upstairs, then along a corridor with several doors. Gysha stopped at one door and turned the handle, opening it to allow Kilanya through.
She stepped into a small room with clean white walls, barely furnished. A potted plant sat on a corner-table, near a simple wooden stool. The morning sunlight shone gently into the room through a large window, specks of dust glowing in its rays. The largest object in the room was a bed, in which a Dasaka lay on clean, unruffled white sheets.
She lay limply, shoulders and head propped up only by the support of cushions. Her eyes stared dully—emptily—forwards at where the opposite wall met the ceiling.
'Here she is,' said Gysha. 'This is Nachi.'
OOC: Kilanya's personal timeline hasn't quite caught up with the Chapter III stuff yet. Bear with me while I get this stuff out of the way, and then I'll get her up-to-date with the political situation.