Keeper of Kraata

Dasaka are Toa of Psionics in all but name. The disciplines are the BZPRPG method to have constraints on what would normally be an extremely versatile and powerful option; it's paired with a unique island, Kentoku, separate from mainline Mata Nui, with much more focus on class structure, politics, and gender stuff. It took me a bit to be invested given how removed it was, but I got really into it and now I have characters between four clans (technically the two I made have been massively depopulated), and have developed lore for one of the islands.

I'd definitely like to pick up where we left off in Kentoku and get things moving again.

The Elda's narrative significance in the BZPRG seems to allowing for the detection of hidden beings, effectively cancelling out other powers (or in the case of an Iden user, which is not a few characters, simply detecting them and allowing for otherwise-impossible communication). Between the Huna/Volitak, illusions from a Mahiki or Sighteye, and the stuff Rahkshi can pull it isn't as situational as some other kanohi, but it definitely feels like a "reactive" mask as opposed to something like the Arthron, where having access to sonar opens up new possibilities, not just cancelling out someone else.

IC: Sydelia - Izakaya, Sado, 1 day ago The healer smiled genuinely; it felt like, for the first time today, she had caught the merest glimpse of the true Inokio. Perhaps; it may have been another layer, but it was enough for her. For now. She moved on to his latest question. "We have several dozen working the tents, but only a few Dasaka that share my mask. Most are Ringti doctors; before this, there were maybe... two others that had seen actual battlefield injuries. Though all of us are learning new and horrible things about anatomy these last few months." It was matter-of-fact; stating it directly was the only way to keep the memories at bay, and she didn't need the sensory overload of septic wounds and the jagged, curving wounds that Rahkshi staves left behind. OOC: @EmperorWhenua

I believe Krayzikk is going to be making a wrapup post for the entire things, but life came up first.

IC: Mashtet Ahri and Askha - The Waikiru, North of Sado Oh Zuto Nui, it was another Vilda noble. She thought they had all left in the exodus. "You're not some helpless princess, you have Vilda blood in you! Relisai may be crazy, but if crazy gets you to tomorrow, be crazy! If you can't win by force of arms, change the game. The reason you're not sliced to pieces and impaled on a staff right now is that one of these monsters busy controlling the water. Sounds like some Vilda I know. Just don't poke the demon directly, most of the other Willhammers that have done that have gone crazy." Askha surveyed the rest of the boat; it was a grim sight. Jellyfish tentacles wrapped around the railings and reached out for anybody on the deck; the one male was still entangled, and at least one saihoko was dragged overboard, stiff as a board. Askha hoped she was already dead. The male didn't look to be doing so well either. Had she seen him before? She hadn't seen a gold Hau like that since- The male Menti strained against the stingers wrapping him, and the glow of a soulsword sliced through the tentacles. She knew that gauntlet. "Don't you touch them." She hadn't heard his voice in so long, she barely recognized it compared to her inner version of the voice. It was all but impossible; loosed from her corporeal body, she had no tears or heartstone to ache. She drifted away from the battle aimlessly, watching him. "Dad?" Raika's two voices struck as one. The kraata inside the Rahkshi was quickly overwhelmed, but Raika touched something darker. They barrelled through the mind of the worm and had come into an abyss, shadowy miasma. The abyss looked back at Raika. She looked back. In sane space, on the boat, Raika's knives did their job, flash-frying the Kraata in its armored shell. There was an elastic snap as the rahkshi returned to its normal shape and collapsed into a heap. The Waikiru was far from safe, however. While Raika and Yuna were distracted, the monster jellyfish had begun further ensnaring the ship. Hundreds of stinging tentacles reached out over the vessel, at everyone alive, and some even started creeping into the hold. Ahri pulled Yuna's fallen katana to his open hand; not his favored style, but the heft felt better compared to the tiny wakizashi Raika had given him. He used the length of the sword to fend off another cluster of tentacles as he left a deep gauge in the boat with his soulsword gauntlet, severing a cluster crawling down into the hold. Eventually the jellyfish would run out, surely? But this couldn't be the endgame. The shapeshifter could have sunken the boat earlier. He saw one saihoko dragged overboard; remarkably, she wasn't drowned, but instead dragged along the water, towards the monstrosity. Its paralytic poison, he thinks. They want them alive, or at least intact enough to mentally scream. That's why they waited until they were in view of Sado. Where is the Navy? Thinking fast, he ran for the edge and jumped overboard. "It wants us alive! I'm going for the other one, defend everyone here!" He jumped overboard, slashing at the tentacles holding the paralyzed saihoko. He caught her with Mindarm as he activated his Hau, splashing in the water. Small jellyfish swarmed, but impotently slid off the barrier; as carefully as he could, he lifted the unfortunate Saihoko back onto the deck before orienting his impromptu pod towards the magenta Rahkshi. He gave himself a push with Mindarm; his entire body burned. This was suicide, but it was something. OOC: @Lady Takanuva @Click @The UltimoScorp

IC: Ahri - The Waikiru, North of Sado A surge of water, thick with the jellyfish, hit Ahri square in the back, pushing him back onto the ship. Spike of pain rain through his body as the jellyfish stung him, before they splashed helplessly on deck. Ahri winced as he got to his feet; at this point, most of the dashi were, if possible, making their way to below deck; the very possible death by drowning outweighing getting caught in the fight. The saihoko were taking axes to the ropes connecting the rafts; a flicker of anger spread through his mind before he realized they were trying to spare them the madness, giving them a chance to escape. Spread out the boats, maybe someone would make it. The grim logic of a rahi laying eggs. His attention was drawn back to the melee unfolding; he saw the rahkshi knock away Yuna, who took a spill over the railing just as Ahri had, and the more experienced Menti was not about to let the debt go unfulfilled. He reached out with Mindarm and arrested her fall, pulling her back onto the boat. He saw that the Raika had wounded the Rahkshi, but it was unfazed. It reached out, and its arm extended, grasping Raika by the throat, moving to pull them onto its readied staff. Ahri wasn't going to let that happen. He reached out again; it wasn't aerodynamic, but there was something satisfying about whipping a spinning steering wheel at high speed into the creature that had destroyed it in the first place. The rahkshi raised an arm to shield itself, but it had to pause in its effort to capitalize on Raika's stunned state. "Menti, press the attack! Overwhelm it before it can distract us long enough for the other-" His shout ended in a wordless cry as dozens of needle-like stingers drove into the flesh around his armor. The titanic jellyfish's tentacles had wrapped his left arm, and as Ahri involuntarily turned in on himself, more encircled him. Every nerve screamed of pain, of fire. Slowly, he was pulled towards the edge of the boat, towards the water, towards the promise of a still, watery doom. Across the boat, the rahkshi's form shifted, ejecting the knife as the wound changed places. Through a combination of its innate speed and ability to stretch its limbs, it reached the main mast in just two strides and swung its bladed staff, shattering the wooden log into splinters. It fell towards Raika and Yuna, and the Rahkshi turned its attention to the other crew of the Waikiru. Ahri struggled against his own body; every muscle he had wished to give in, to crumple, to rest and make the pain stop, but that would bring death. He was better - was he? - and he had fought through worse. He knew this pain was nothing compared to... compared to... "Kaetyo!" he screamed. Why had Orisu attacked him? She hadn't said a word. There was blood on his sword. Why? Was that his? His daughter's? She did this. His wife. He didn't know why, but she must have given the order. "Kaetyo, you coward! What did you do to them!" Further in the tunnels were the other Menti, and the facets of their blades glittered in the dull light of the heatstones. Behind them, the dashi, holding hatchets, carving knives. Tools, not weapons, but all were ready to kill. "I didn't mean to," he pleaded. "She attacked me... I didn't see it was her! It's me, Ahri! I'm your father, your uncle, your castellan! Kaetyo's husband!" They did not relent. They were merciless, and his Hau could only hold out so long. Especially with the anger, white-hot rage filling him. He dropped the shield, and fought back. With sword and gauntlet, he despaired at each family member felled, each death fuelling that rage. By Zataka, he killed all of them. Bloody and ragged, he made it to the central chamber, newly excavated. It was massive, and covered in chambers, each bearing a small, serpent-like idol. In the center she stood, alone. Toroshu Kaetyo, in the Mashtet Panoply. It was unlike the last time he had seen it, however; an ugly rot had crept into its illusory facade, reflecting the rust in Kaetyo's mask. She held her naginata planted on the ground, utterly at ease. She said something, but what she said and what he heard were two different things. Despite his rage, he simply limped up to her. His throat parched, he struggled to find the right words. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. "What have you done?" The Toroshu gestured to the blood on his hands. "Me? What have you done? You've killed us. We were on the cusp of the future, the answers! What have you done, you short-sighted man? You're a mad dog, and you've brought fire and ruin back home. You really are worthless." Ahri snarled, and reached out. This wasn't Kaetyo, but it was all too close. It was a monster wearing her mask. The Willhammer hit his mind, and his soul burned. Every nerve in his body burned through the anger, and a nail of cold reason sliced through his mind. It was painful, but cold. .:This is my last gift to you. May your bloody hands never work again.: The Willhammer attack was slow, careful, and insidious, everything that Kaetyo did not need in that moment. Maybe it was as much of a gift as she could manage through her poisoned mind; Ahri reached out and squeezed her mask in his gauntlet. Her mask shattered like a falling glass from the heat and pressure, and what was left of her face was a smoking ruin. She fell like a stone, and Ahri stumbled back. He couldn't recall how he had reached the sea exit of the tunnels, but he met the sunset that poured into the small hole in the cliff by collapsing against the wall, welcoming the sea breeze. His anger had faded to exhaustion, and he gripped the smoking serpent in his gauntlet. He wanted to sleep. From the mouth of the tunnel, several pairs of eyes stared at him. Bells and chimes sounded as they moved. Ahri smiled; it had always been a rumor that Hanaloi played host to several Koshi spirits. He let their chiming lull him to sleep. He had done something terrible, but it was in the past now. It was easier to just... forget. Mashtet Ahri's eye's shot open. The pain wasn't an illusion, but it was just pain. He had been through worse. In the caves of Hanaloi, when he fought against the Fursic, when he had fought a desperate honor duel for his old clan. He focused on his left hand, on the fiery pain, and externalized it. The translucent tendrils glowed red, before a Soulsword sliced them to ribbons. When his hand was free, he sliced off the other tendrils holding him, and their ends fell limply to the deck as the others retreated. His soulsword wasn't elegant; it was, in fact, rather ugly. An oversized, fiery red gauntlet that covered his arm up to the elbow, each finger ending in a talon. It wasn't a weapon of honor; it was a weapon of war. He had poured his dread, his anger, and his passion into the Gauntlet. His left arm under the spectral weapon was cool and numb, compared to the fire that burned everyone else from the venom. "Don't you touch them," Ahri growled. IC: Mashtet Askha, Sado Docks The trip had been dour, but somehow, returning to her and her aunt Somei's bolthole alone was what had finally broken her. Askha had held back her tears for the entire trek back to Sado, leaving Hanaloi in flames. The next morning, empty, she had returned to the dock. As she had expected, the Dastana were none too pleased that the expedition had ended in such failure, and instead of bringing back valuable lumber, Askha had brought back only a handful of battle-ready Taajar, and many more wounded refugees. At least they had been allowed to dock, but many of their beasts were still cooped up; that meant that many of the Kuychar were also still there, with a few lost-looking Kaazi. Fortunately, the dock workers had been quick to put the idle hands to work, which none of them objected to. Some labor to distract her might be Askha needed to, to be honest. Most of the dockworkers and guards were watching a sad-looking vessel a kio or so out. Askha squinted with her one unbandaged eye. "Hey, help a girl out, what's going on over there? I can't see." A Dastana dock guard with a telescopic monoscope mounted on her mask stepped towards her, not taking her eyes off the altercation. "Looks like a beat-up fishing boat is fighting some of the serpents." "What!?" Askha shaded her eye to see better. "Why haven't any of the naval ships been sent out?" The Dastana grimaced; she wasn't dismissive, but she didn't like her answer any more than Askha did. "I think its outside the perimeter; anything with enough range isn't precise enough. Besides, they've done this before. Attack a ship mostly loaded with refugees, and hit a naval ship with a bigger force." Ashka fumed. She couldn't watch this. Not when it was so close. She couldn't stand by and watch more innocents die. She hadn't even told Sydelia yet. "I'm going to get closer, see if I can spot anything." She slumped by a neglected pile of crates, barely settling down before her Iden activated. Her spirit flew towards the ship, and she took in the carnage. Dashi and saihoko refugees on makeshift rafts quickly paddled way from the main boat, where one several Dasaka were busy holding off tendrils of a giant jellyfish and a single rahkshi. She counted three, no, four Dasaka. One was getting her balance from nearly getting knocked off, one had fallen and was covering her face, a male was entangled by some of the tendrils, and the last was a blur desperately trying to wound the creature. In her spirit form, the most she could contribute was shouting at them on the mental plane; she flew up to the one on the ground, recognizing the workmanship of her armor as Vilda. Form over function, in her opinion, but that didn't matter now. She focused her voice so that it would come in as loud and clear ideatalk to the fallen menti. "Hey! Vilda! I get to be your personal voice of reason today. Get up, you're not out of this yet!" OOC: @Lady Takanuva @Click @The UltimoScorp @Mel

OOC: A day-ish later... IC: Ahri - The Waikiru, North of Sado The sunrise brought no comfort to Ahri. A column of black smoke still arose from Hanaloi, far in the distance. He actually caught a glimpse of the island during the night before he had attempted to sleep in the hold, ignoring the nausea, bad dreams, and odor of fish. The island had glowed like a piece of charcoal. In the back of his mind, something gnawed at him, as if he knew he had forgotten something importance. He felt the morning sun crest Mount Koshiki, and it heated the sea spray on his Hau. The journey had been tense, but ultimately safe. They had almost hit several sandbars, and the wind had not cooperated. He could have sworn he had seen figures watching from the horn of Oki, and on Iki he had only seen distant lightstones. But now, Sado was within sight. Even from here, he could tell the city was in a worse state than he had ever seen, even during the lowest points of the Fursic Uprising. But even so, he couldn't help but crack a smile when he saw the glittering towers, glazed by smoke as they were. The smile didn't last as he noticed several wrecks of Royal Navy vessels dotting the water. At least we're not in open waters; how deep is the sea here? Ahri looked down into the ocean as their patched sailed sluggishly caught the morning breeze; it was surprisingly clear. He caught a glimmer of light, not the sun. A school of luminescent jellyflish pushed their way through the water under the boat. Had any Vilda tried their Willhammer art with simple creatures such as these? He had once seen a Saihoko using one as a replacement for lightstones, when a blockade drove up the price of the crystals. Perhaps a Willhammer could turn them on and off, like shutting a lantern. He was lost in thought for a few seconds when he noticed that the school of jellyfish wasn't done; under the Waikiru, the ocean turned into an enormous patch of coruscating colors. The breeze lightened; no, the breeze was the same. The boat had stopped. The few saihoko on board were muttering and looking over the railing. Curses, curiosity, dread. He didn't have to be an empath. "Pull in the rafts! Yuna, we might need your-" Ahri was interrupted by the deck lurching under him as a huge swell hit the Waikiru. He managed to grab the railing before he lost his footing, but several of the dashi weren't so lucky; however, nobody went overboard, Ahri thanked Zuto Nui for that. His attention was drawn to what seemed to be the source of the swell; a few dozen bios off the port side of the Waikiru, the water sputtered as something enormous rose from the water. He had seen the reassembled skeleton of a kanohi dragon once at one of the museums in Sado, and had wondered how such a thing could be so large. Soko had frightened him when he was young; now, a jellyfish that must have been larger than the boat he was on was rising from the water. Colorful patterns flickered across its surface, rippling out from a figure standing atop the creature: a spiny, armored monster. He heard the whispers around him; demon. Insect. Zataka's son. Rahkshi. The rahkshi, whose magenta armor made it stand out against the massive jellyfish's glow, bore a double-bladed staff whose head glowed. It pointed the staff at the Waikiru, and an enormous tendril rose from the ocean and slammed across the deck, dripping with venom. Ahri's wakizashi flew out of its scabbard and pinned the tendril to the deck, but Ahri could see more of the tendrils coming. "Yuna, Mitsuri, Raika!" he shouted. He searched for them, before the sound of cracking wood drew his attention to the wheel of the ship; a dashi tore the wheel away from the deck and tossed it away as easily as a training Menti might a towel. Ahri recognized her, the silent dashi with the Komau. The last one aboard. Her eyes reflected no madness, only a sinister determination. The dashi's form warped and contorted, swelling until it was shaped into the blue and gold armored carapace of a second rahkshi. The rahkshi's face split as it screeched; the dashi and saihoko aboard scrambled away, and Ahri tried to put as many as he could behind him, positioning himself between them and the monster. The rahkshi hopped onto the deck, cracking the already-strained deck. Impossibly fast, it materialized a similar bladed staff in its hands, swinging it at Ahri. The Menti, to his credit, was ready with his Hau, but the impact knocked him into the air; he was unharmed, but the roiling sea and stinging jellyfish swarm filled his vision. OOC: @Lady Takanuva@Click@The UltimoScorp

Oh boy, that means we get to cut right to some fun stuff.

IC: Vakua - Ko-Koro Thoroughfare After the terminally long meeting, Vakua had bid farewell to Aelied as the elder Toa had returned to the Memorial Greenhouse, presumably to make sure he didn't freeze. The De-Toa needed comparatively little warming up, and just got a bowl of his favorite soup. His mask ever so slightly glowed; Aelied had told him the Suletu was a difficult mask to use, but he had taken to it like a fish to water. Cyrix caught him up on the day's events; Zueya and Skorm were on a mission in the Dark Walk, and there were spooks sniffing around the Kalta. Thankfully, he didn't ask him to do anything about that; he was nobody's spy. That wasn't why he was a Toa. Now, Kalyss meeting a dragon and playing tour guide? That was a bit more his speed. Sipping at the broth, several de-matoran passed by Vakua, engaged in a heated conversation in matoran sign language. He averted his gaze to avoid eavesdropping, but not before one of the pair greeted him, asking him what soup he had gotten. "Le-Koro onion soup," he signed back with one hand. "Though with less spices, can't handle it otherwise." Both the de-matoran grinned. "You newcomers would think snow is spicy," she replied. Vakua shook his head in exaggerated protest. "Hey, I think Kalyss has her snow with salt, at least!" The de-matoran shook their hands in laughter before returning to their original argument. The De-Toa smiled; he had liked Ga-Koro, but he liked this place even better. The people, the radio, the listening equipment, it was a dream for him. He didn't even mind the cold much. Something buzzed in the back of Vakua's head; faint words, but not drowned out by his earmuffs. Vakua frowned; someone wasn't trying to contact him, were they? He fully activated his Suletu as he breathed into his scarf for warmth. He heard the speaking again, before it was quiet. It wasn't speech, and unless it was someone unskilled, it probably wasn't a Suletu or, Mata Nui forbid, a Komau. There was only one possibility; the Dasaka were already here. He had been practicing trying to imitate Ideatalk since Dakte had left; he hadn't had a chance to practice, but he thought he had the fundamentals. ::Excuse me, um... Can you hear this? Are you Dasaka? This is Vakua, of the Toa Kalta. You are welcome here in Ko-Koro. Apologies for the rusty Ideatalk, I've been trying to adjust my technique since... Vilda Mako and Ageru Dakte left. If it's not too much trouble, I can meet you near the main square:: OOC: @Mel @Geardirector @Endless Sea (Alaki Nuva)

IC: Ahri - Oki Village, Wakiru The last of the Dashi were being loaded; several stragglers, bringing wounded. Those that couldn't move were put in the main boat. Soon, all the Dashi had been loaded, either on the main boat or the rafts. There were a few Saihoko, enough to put one on each raft and a few on the main boat; they weren't sailors by trade, but all of them knew enough about boats to be able to help around. High tide was coming in; Yuna pulled from further in the surf by pulling with the water, while the other Dasaka and several of the refugees from the rafts pushed the fishing boat back onto the water. Loaded down it was an even harder task, even if it was now empty of water. As Ahri pushed against the fishing boat with his back, he spotted a last Dashi at the edge of the woods; he had seen her blue noble Komau several times around the camp and helping in the forest. Apparently, she never talked. "We still have room, come on!" His hands busy, Ahri cocked his head towards the boat. She ran to them, helping to push the vessel. Ahri heard affirmative cries from the deck as the boat shifted, and the pressure from the sand eased as the Wakiru eased onto open water. The other Dasaka and Dashi pushing onto the boat scrambled back to their rafts or onto the deck, with the old fishing boat groaning. Yuna and Ahri stayed in the water for this part; together, they used their Mindarm to reverse the vessel so its jury-rigged rudder wasn't damaged in the shallow water. As the Wakiru began drifting out to sea, the Saihoko on its deck unfurled its patched sail, and the trawler began moving north. Ahri ran to the side of the boat and started clambering up. A hand helped him crawl over the railing - the Komau-wearing Dashi, the last of the little ones to board. He took her hand, and was surprised when she was sturdy enough to pull him onto the boat. Then again, the Dashi had strength that belied their small size; after all, it was they who worked the fields and felled the trees. His body was tired with exertion, but still tense. They had taken a huge step, and soon they'd be back in Sado. But Ahri didn't know for certain if that meant safety. And before any of that, they had the journey, which was no small thing. The sun's reflection glittered in the sea as the motley procession of boats sailed north towards the horn of Iki. Ahri settled down on at the front of the boat, watching the horizon. Even with the rising sun, the smoke from Hanaloi was still visible. Before, he had held some faint hope that Hanaloi wasn't burning, but it was from part of Mount Koshiki, but the further north they sailed, the view made it very clear that his adopted island home was the source. He didn't speak of it, instead trying his best to keep a lookout. OOC: @Lady Takanuva @Click @The UltimoScorp

IC: Zueya - Dark Walk She saw the blow coming; if she had been on the ground, a twitch could roll her out of the way. Alas, she was flying through the air, the Rahkshi's reflexes matched hers, and the monster had the longer reach. Block, use the momentum. Zueya heeded the voice in her mind as if by instinct. She brought her staff low and tucked her legs in; instead of impacting her side, the rahkshi's stave met her own. Using the impact like a springboard, the Vo-Toa deflected herself to the Rahkshi's side. She rolled once before kicking back into a crouch. Her arms were numb from absorbing the blow, and she could faintly smell the acrid smoke of a burning body. Her own? Her Calix was still working though. Sparks flew through her limbs as she gripped her staff at one end. Like a piston, she pushed forward, driving the end of her metal staff at the spot above and behind the rahkshi's shoulder, the base of its spinal cavity. OOC: @Light

IC: Raiyo - Ko-Koro Gates Travelling with the Vilda Toroshu had afforded Raiyo many experiences beyond what a dashi normally experienced; Raiyo was aware that Oki was quite unlike many other places in the empire, and her travels with Robalta had let her see the gleaming towers of Sado firsthand. Even under her cloak, the cold bit into her, and she shivered steadily. She had been frightened during the first snowfall; it had reminded her of ash. But after the initial shock, there had been joy. Now, however, she was just cold. An entire city surrounded by ice... She had barely believed Datsue Mako when he had described a city in the mountains, encased by ice. But she could still scarcely believe that people lived here, but it was undeniable. The locals, so many men, had strange shapes and stranger colors, but most of the 'matoran', the local dashi, were recognizable enough. Though was growing to recognize them not by their coloration, but by their lack of warmth-retaining accessories and quiet, contemplative demeanor. At least this seemed familiar. "Datsue, Turaga, are we expected? Are we meeting anyone here?" OOC: @Mel @Geardirector @Endless Sea (Alaki Nuva)

IC: Sydelia - Sado, Izakaya A ripple flickered through Sydelia's illusion, as if something had dropped in a reflection. Her mask warped into an ugly smile. "You want... them. The Fursic name may be worth less than dirt right now, but I still use it because people recognize it; the Mashtet crawled up their own ass and disappeared years ago. I can count the survivors on one hand. Mind you, not even my own hand, I mean one that belonged to an idiot who thought she could grab a soul blade." She planted an elbow on the table, resting her head in her hand. He was just another person using her for her old family. "Last I heard, the last Mashtet Menti and Datsue set off with a Plangori expedition, trying to find wood for the war effort." The illusion shuddered; Sydelia almost said my mother, but the fortunate thing about speaking through an illusion was she had a chance to examine her words before 'speaking' them. "My cousin probably thinks she can claim the old castle, but she's woefully stubborn. The Datsue is a Carver, and might be able to get some supplies to continue her craft, maybe pass it on. Ironic that the Fursic aren't here to capitalize on that." She poured herself more sake. "When they get back, I can have you meet them; Mashtet Askha doesn't much care for me, but I'm sure if I vouch for you, Somei will, and if she vouches for you, Askha will tell you anything they found." It wasn't much, but a small voice told her that the healers needed those herbs. She noted both the fact that he was holding them as bargaining material, and that they were being used to set up a simple meeting. OOC: @EmperorWhenua

IC: Sydelia - Sado, Izakaya The adopted Fursic tried very hard to not choke on her sake; her illusory self spasmed and flickered out of existence. She took a moment to compose herself, filling up her cup again as she resumed her Mindeye projection of herself. "Well, that certainly explains why a man with such excellent taste is wearing a ronin's robes," her illusion said, leaning into the conversation. Why was a disgraced battlemaster, formerly suspected of murdering the previous Rora t(wice-previous, actually, now that she thought about it) paying attention to her? Obviously, if this was his way of telling her, he was deep in hiding. He must need something from her, specifically. But what? The real Sydelia sank further into a slouch as the illusion leaned back in her chair. "So, Korae Inokio, if you still go by that, you still have my interest. What can I do for you? OOC: @EmperorWhenua