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[HailFire]

While we are always taking new players, please read the OOC Thread first, and post your application there to avoid cluttering up this thread!

Your GMs for today are:
-HailFire
-thatkid
-??? (If you're interested in helping run the game, PM me!)


Welcome to Amemura. The "Rain Village" has expanded some ways from its namesake as it grew in importance as a center of shipping and trade on the island; stacks of smoke from the local train station mar the clear blue sky, the pungent scent of burning coal mingling with the sweet smell of an autumn breeze coming in from the dense surrounding forest. The streets bustle. Merchants hawk their wares, and craftsman work in the open, if they are able, attempting to squeeze what they can from the few pleasant days which remain to them. Indeed, for the harvest season, a time marked by an absence of farmers as they diligently tend their fields, this town is fairly busy. As the world goes about its business, it occurs to you that there are a number of places you could go, or perhaps already are. There is the market, obviously, a place full of rumors and goods for barter, and a number of inns where weary travelers go to rest. Nearby, shouts and the clash of wood and steel rise from an area sectioned off for samurai to hone their skills against their fellows, or to resolve duels. On the north side of town, an aging temple resides, as well as the magistrate's estate... though black smoke rises from that walled compound as well. There are, of course, plenty of other locations which you may be present; it's a pretty big place, after all.
 
So the question remains: Where are you? What do you do?

[HailFire]

Reserved for clan summaries and such.

[Shootandrun]

Kenshin arrived in Amemura during the late afternoon, and he was quite tired at the time. Having crossed the island on foot (after missing the train, he had decided he wanted to see the region for himself) and spent the last few days trekking on dirt roads, his legs were aching and he was eager to have some warm food. To an outsider, he would have looked like a normal traveler, with graying hair and a large traveling pack strapped on his back, if not for a few details - namely, a back banner signaling allegiance to the clan Hiroshi, which was seldom seen on the island, and the fact that his Bisento and Yumi were both too large to be completely contained inside the pack, while his daisho was tucked in his belt. If he had been wearing armor, he would not have looked out of place amongst soldiers setting up camp before a siege.

Because of that, he was not surprised when he got a few looks as he entered the town. It was nothing unusual - Kenshin was not one to hide his station, although he did not exactly flaunt it either, being dressed in relatively plain clothes. He walked straight down the main street and into the market, where he quickly spotted the biggest and seemingly most popular inn - always a good place to get news. He marched in silently, taking a seat at the bar and setting his pack down between his legs.

"Barkeep, I'll take the best warm dinner you have."

Hopefully, that would be something else than a bowl of rice. As the man got to work, he leaned forward and spoke in a slightly softer voice, his tone still conversational.

"So, what news from the east?"

Go to the town's largest inn. Try to find out what's happening in the east, by asking the barkeep and listening to the discussions around.

[thatkid]

Having arrived in Amemura sometime the night before, Kenji had managed, as always, to find time to meditate on this morning. For once, he had been able to do so in a temple. Though he much preferred the wild and natural places of the world, he was loathe to pass up an opportunity to perform his morning rituals in such a place. The opportunity did not present itself often. It was in this way that, by mid-morning, he had found his way to the local inn. He hadn't any coin, certainly, and he expected no charity. Still, he was eager to gather some news regarding events following his brother's demise, and he could always pass the time playing games or composing haiku while there. The innkeep would allow him that. Or, at least, they usually did. For though they could not recognize him, the daisho tucked into the sash of his kimono still marked him as a member of the Samurai class, and even Ronin (as he was often taken to be, and which, he supposed, he partially was) were often afforded some degree of courtesy and respect.

Arriving, he kept his head down. That is to say, Kenji, in this situation, did as he always did. He did nothing in particular to draw attention to himself, instead quietly entering and, once the occasional glances afforded a lone ronin had passed, finding himself a seat.

Head to the town's central inn. Don't draw any attention to yourself, simply listen in or join in any small activities or games that travelers may be using to pass the time. Hopefully, learn some of the news and gossip.

[filiusenox]

A man on the cusp of young and middling of age, sat near the door inside the tavern. His clothing - black, tattered rags, marked with patches and improvised needlework- marked him as maybe a beggar or thief, or vagabond, which, all things considered, he was. The armor he wore upon himself marked him as something more than that, as did the nearly-twin tanto tucked neatly into his belt. His broad-brimmed iron helm was tucked down over his face, hiding it from the faint light of the rice-paper lanterns.

After hearing something from some excited children, he draws himself up, drifting slowly out the door, through the market. He ignores the calls of whores and market vendors alike, moving towards the street in front of the magistrate's compound. Considering the smoke, he lingers in the shade, staying out of the hot sun as it beat down on the cobblestone streets.

He adjusts his helmet, watching the locals.

Head to the magistrate's house. Try to figure out what's smoking.

[HailFire]

Kenshin: The Red Flask is brightly lit and relatively clean, though buzzing with activity at this time of day, filled almost to capacity with local workers and travelers of all stripes. You make a beeline for the bar, ignoring the usual barrage of glances, and the bartender- a fat but quite muscular man with a bald head and an eyepatch- nods at your request, barking orders to the kitchen staff over his shoulder before returning his attention to you, idly scrubbing the bar with a rag for likely the thousandth time. "1 bu, Hiroshi-san."

Your question elicits a long sigh from him, and he rolls his shoulders before leaning over the bar, responding in a low, gravelly tone. "Less than you'd think. Everyone and their dog knows about the assassination by now, a few dozen samurai have fallen on their swords, and still no culprit. The Imperial court's running around looking for an heir like they've all been set on fire, and haven't turned up a single bastard. Even the Shogun's allies are circling like vultures at this point, so unless someone pulls his long-lost brother out of a hat pretty soon, there probably won't be another Shogun."

The meal is hot and hearty; a large platter of steaming rice, grilled fish, and seasonal vegetables. As you dig in, you keep an ear out for any other gossip... (7,6,9 = 22) Though it's difficult to take in much of the conversation from your position at the bar, especially over the noise from the kitchens and the bartender himself, it seems the two topics foremost on people's tongues- aside from what the barkeep's already told you- are a fire at the Magistrate's house that's taken most of the afternoon to fight, and the local railway- the last train for a while's scheduled to come in close to midnight, before it gets shut down for maintenance... and the other line's been under repair for the past several days, with no word on when it'll be back online. Leaving town will be just as difficult as arriving, it seems.

Kenji: Though you arrive at the inn much earlier in the day, you quickly become wrapped up in a game of shogi with a kindly old local- most of the others being played are games of chance, anyway, and you have no money to wager. (5,4,5 = 14) vs (8,5 = 13) The game lasts quite some time; while your opponent knows the rules better than you, you're able to match his every move with your intuition. Fortunately, he offers to share his meals with you: as the near-intractable stalemate drags on through the afternoon and towards evening, and with the help of the occasional chuckle or snide comment from onlookers, it slowly dawns on you that you're both equally terrible at shogi. With this strategic knowledge well in hand, you regroup your thoughts and proceed to make a completely asinine move, which throws him off his game just enough for you to finally clench the victory, to scattered applause. All the same, he breathes a sigh of relief, and thanks you for a good game with a hearty laugh.

(4,7,8 = 19) You have plenty of time to soak in rumors and smalltalk between moves over the course of the day; in addition to the above (you learned of the fire when it happened, but the situation seemed to be under control at the time- a belief worn down over the course of the day), you hear of a minor breach in the Great Blood Wall that guards the Shadowlands to the West- supposedly caused by some ronin or other, but since repaired- and rumors of a vile necromancer living deep in the woods, who occasionally sneaks into the village to rob graves.

Additionally, you noticed that roughly twenty minutes before you finished your game, a trio of downtrodden-looking peasant farmers had entered the establishment, only to spend most of that huddled silently at one of the walls, sharing a small bowl of rice.

Kiyoshi: There's already a crowd of concerned locals when you arrive, and their nervous chattering- as well as the bucket chain you can see through the gates of the estate- clearly indicate there's been some sort of fire. Looks like those yokels back the the tavern weren't just trying to stir shit up after all. (15,5,5 = 25) Word on the street is that it started in the kitchens- they've managed to contain it, but it's proving supremely stubborn to put out, and-- wait a second. Is that...? Yeah, squinting at it, you're pretty goddamn sure that's a second, faint trail of smoke starting to snake out from somewhere near the rear-right side of the compound.

Suddenly, there's a piercing shriek from the direction of the manor, only slightly muffled by distance- several people drop their buckets in surprise, the two soldiers standing guard at the gate scramble to wrench it open to investigate, and the crowd of onlookers seems to have decided that now would be a simply fantastic time to panic, which they do with gusto.

[filiusenox]

The Bastard facepalms at the sudden panic, squeezing the bridge of his nose and sighing softly. After a moment of silence on his part, most of it spent watching the guards for a few moments, he pushes off the wall. Striding towards the middle of the fleeing, flightly crowd, he raises his voice as much as possible, cupping his mouth for extra effect.

"Get back to the bucket train, or the fire will spread!" He grabs a few of the fleeing men and roughly shoves them back towards the shattered bucket line after yelling out over the crowd. His voice lowers almost immediately, trying to corral the people back towards the suddenly ragged line of fire-fighting people. "Come on, get this fire put out." Or some variation of which is all he says, continuing to rudely shove people.

Then, ripping a bit of cloth from his ragged clothing to cover his face, snatching up one of the water buckets, he sets off at a casual pace into the courtyard. If there's a second scream, that is when he sprints towards the voice.

[thatkid]

"I thank you, Ojisama, for the kindness and knowledge you have shown me."
Kenji's formal words came quiet and soft among the largely disinterested applause of the inn's patrons, his form affecting a slight bow as he spoke. Even focused as he was on the present affairs, his mind still wandered to what he had learned over the course of the day. That his clan was in disarray came as no surprise, but that a maho-tsukai was active in the area certainly was. Could this tainted individual be one and the same with the Ronin that had managed to breach the Blood Wall? In any case, it was worthy of investigation. Perhaps his night would be spent near the graveyard. He was unlikely to catch the creature in the act in a single night, but the meditation and solitude would certainly assist in deciding how to best repay his debt of gratitude to the old man, however small and insignificant it was, and better deal with such rumors. One must gather information before they can act, after all.

Quietly gathering his fishing pole and setting his broad straw hat upon his head, Kenji made to set out into the evening, sandals quietly clattering-- Wood against wood, and stone, and gravel. It was only once outside that he recalled the trio of farmers who had arrived shortly before his victory and departure. Their predicament was not entirely out of the ordinary, but they did seem far worse off than usual. Trouble with the harvest, perhaps? There was little he could do, were that the case. In the past, he might have sent a letter to his brother noting that the province may find itself in need of aid, an act which the fellow might have agreed to if only for the political benefits. To do anything of the sort now, however, would reveal his location and thereby draw him into the brewing war far too soon. Kami willing, someone with the means would assist the peasantry, for he, at least in this regard, certainly could not.
All in due time, he reminded himself, as he made his way along the road.

Kenji thanks the old man for the game and meal with the respect afforded to an elder, compounded some by his generally polite nature.* Unless deterred for some reason, he then sets out at a leisurely pace, seeking a hill or other vantage point by which he might observe Amemura's graveyard and/or the approaching roads over the course of the night. All the better if said location is amenable to camping without a tent or bedroll.

*I'm assuming the old guy is clearly not of the samurai caste. If he is, however, I'd like to request a Lore: Heraldry roll (necessarily untrained) to determine who he is. Regardless, I'd also like a Lore: Bushido roll to determine this peasant guy's honor.
If ever asked for a name, Kenji provides simply "Kazuki."

Spoiler: Current Short Term Goals (click to show/hide)

-Investigate the rumors of a necromancer.
-Find a way to repay the old man's small kindness.

[Shootandrun]

Kenshin finished his meal with a satisfied sigh and waited for a moment at the bar, considering what to do. Normally, at that point, he would go outside, watch the setting sun, perhaps have smoke from his pipe, and eventually find a place to rest for the night. He felt, however, that perhaps the fire at the Magistrate's house was worth investigating - if it had been fought throughout the day, it was possible that it might be very serious. He doubted that anything would come of any investigation, however - one more hand wouldn't make much of a difference, and besides by now it had to be finally ending. Still, a look would not harm.

Sighing, he thanked the barkeep for his information, left a bu to pay for the meal and got up. With a grunt, he picked his pack up and placed it on his shoulders, before leaving the inn at a slow pace. Once outside, he started walking towards the smoke. The streets cleared ahead of him - few peasants got in the way of a samurai, especially not one who looked like he could walk right over them if he was not careful - and he quickly reached the house, which seemed strangely... Agitated. If the fire had been going on for so long without spreading throughout the town, one would have assumed the situation was under control, and yet the crowd around the place was completely panicking. He could not see any guards at the gate, either, which was rather alarming. In fact, the crowd's panic seemed out of place for a fire which had failed to leave the compound...

One thing was certain - someone needed to get these people under control. If there was any foul action going on inside the compound, which seemed more likely with every passing second, then he would need to be ready for that, too. Shaking his head, Kenshin set down his pack, and started opening it.

Go to the Magistrate's house. Get in armor and equip the Bisento; use those to make it clear to the crowd that a samurai is present and try to get them under control. Investigate what's going on, if possible.

[HailFire]

Kiyoshi: (Auto-Failure) You may as well be herding cats- your complete and utter lack of anything resembling people skills makes your efforts futile, and, if anything, your haphazard shoving and mention of the fire spreading only serves to agitate them further. (9,2,1 = 11) Fortunately, the samurai at the head of the bucket chain- Hoshikawa clan, you believe- seems to be having a much easier time rallying the fire-fighting crew back to the task at hand.

Deciding your time would be better spent investigating the scream you heard, you head through the gate after the guards, scooping up a bucket on your way- nobody seems particularly inclined to stop you, given the circumstances. As you approach the far corner of the building, it appears that the commotion has already attracted several of the other guards and servants, whose expressions are mostly a mix of shock and fear. Rounding the corner, it seems the shriek came from one of the servants, currently on her knees in front of a spilled tray of refreshments, hands covering her mouth, and tears accompanying an expression of abject horror at the sight just inside- now in front of you as well.

Upon cursory examination, the room has quite obviously been set ablaze, the flames quickly spreading over the interior paper walls, and three men lie dead in the center of the room- two guards, and a man in elaborate robes whom you assume him to be of the samurai caste, based on his topknot... which, like the rest of his head, lies several feet away from the rest of his body, the abdomen of which has been ripped open, spilling his entrails. Blood and paperwork are scattered all across the floor. (14) Fortunately, you've seen some shit in your day, and manage to keep a cool head, unlike... pretty much everyone else there.

Nearby, you hear feet charging up stairs, before another official- his robes somewhat less elaborate looking, and in more muted tones- bursts from a shed attached to the wall of the compound, four more guards in tow. "What in the world is going on now?!" He demands as they rush over, not quite yet in view of the grisly scene.

Kenji: (5,14,8 = 27) The old man certainly isn't of your caste- an artisan, likely- but his bearing does seem to indicate a higher than average sense of self worth and pride in his actions. All the same, he humbly accepts your gratitude, though he doesn't seem nearly as concerned about it as you are.

(6,18 = 24) Nobody seems to want to bother with you as you search for the town's graveyard, which- with equal measures luck and intuition- you soon locate near the east outskirts. (10,9) The roof of a nearby warehouse serves as an adequate vantage point for the surrounding area, and is sloped gently enough that you could sleep up there, if need-be, though it likely won't be comfortable. Nonetheless, you make your way up quickly and quietly, despite your lack of climbing experience.

It seems you're not the first who's had the idea of coming out here, though: on the roof just across the street from yours, a figure in a heavy-looking brown robe sits and watches the graveyard as well, hood drawn over their face, and smoke wafting lazily from a pipe. They don't seem to have noticed you.

Kenshin: A strange commotion indeed. You set down at the corner of the street and begin armoring up... (27,6,9 = 42) vs (18,8,7 = 33) As you methodically slot and tie each piece into place, a drill you know by heart, a sense of calm washes over you, in stark contrast to the chaos of the scattering crowd ahead. For just a moment, time seems to slow, sounds fade, and even the tiniest blade of grass peeking from the cobbles can be seen in sharp relief... you feel at peace.

...and just like that, it passes, as out of place sounds on the very cusp of your hearing shatter your moment of zen- the soft tapping of footsteps on the roof above you, followed by a thump some ways behind you, like a weight dropped onto cushions. You're only half-armored, but your Bisento is readily at hand, should you choose to investigate the noise.

[Shootandrun]

There was a certain beauty to armor. Kenshin's equipment was not a work of art, yet he believed it could have been. The man who had made it had fashioned it with perfection, leaving no detail wanting - it was the greatest protection any Samurai could ask for. The lines were simple and the metal plates had been assembled in the same way as a thousand others before them, and yet it was an incredible creation. Once in his armor, he was all but indestructible. As such, the world went quiet around him as he put it on - his attention focused on nothing and everything at the same time as he got used to the new weight, like he had done hundreds of times in the past. He was halfway through it all when something broke his concentration - a sound which should never have been there.

Amongst all the tumult, someone was not only trying to move by using the roof of the nearest building - he was trying to do it quietly.

He reacted with experience and dived for his Yumi and his arrows. There was only one kind of man that would flee like so in a time of chaos like this, that would make an effort not to be seen or heard right after a criminal act had been committed - the same kind of man that would have been responsible for breaking the law. He did not need to turn around to know it - he had heard of or seen such things before. Instead, he went for his ranged weapon, in great part because he was aware of the fact that he was not quite as fast as in his youth... And although he knew many men who could outrun him, he had never met one who could outrun his arrows.

With the bow on his back and his Bisento in hand, he whirled around and started sprinting towards the origin of the noise. He did not shout anything - crying for guards before he had his eyes on a potential culprit was foolish indeed, and it might also have alerted the criminal of his presence. Of course, he was not a monument of subtlety - barging down the street, half-armored as he was, with an enormous weapon in his hand, he must have been quite the sight indeed - but amongst a crowd in panic it might go unnoticed (though he would have had better chances had that other Samurai not started to organize the fire-fighters), or one might have thought he was simply going to the nearest guard house to get reinforcements. Of course, he was doing no such thing - Kenshin was hunting, and his prey did not know it yet.

Get the bow and arrows, but keep the Bisento as the main weapon. Sprint after the origin of the sound. Try to get sights on whoever was sneaking - attempt to get them to stop by shouting if they are in melee range or if they are aware of the pursuit. If they do not stop and surrender, engage. If they get too far away to catch up, pincushion them.

[filiusenox]

Kiyoshi stood near the edge of the growing crowd of samurai and guards and officials, still holding the bucket of water. His head was tilted down, helmet braced against the sun, casting his scarred visage into shadow. But his eyes were fixed on the scene, fingers idly tracing the whirls of the wood in his hand. The brutality and nature of the crime intrigued him enough that he subtly tried to slink a little more forward, towards the scene, through the aforementioned crowd.

Then, he pauses, drinking the gore in, calmly trying to consider what could gouge holes in men like that. And the only things he could think of sent shivers down his spine, shivers that had nothing to do with the chill autumn breeze. But his gaze flicks over the entire room after a few, perfunctory inspections of those corpses from where he stood.

[thatkid]

Kenji was surprised, to say the least, and it showed in raised brows and widened eyes. He paused a moment to make use of his unintended to stealth in order to compose himself, all the while asking the question: Why is someone else up here? It didn't particularly matter. Perhaps they had nowhere else to sleep. A fellow traveler. Or, perhaps, they were here for the same reasons he was. He hoped either of those two were the case. A rooftop battle was far from optimal. Still, there was nothing Kenji could do now. It would be best to wait, and see what would come of this development.

He quietly stepped across the warehouse roof, moving wordlessly to take a seat along the edge. Now and then, he cast a brief glance to his distant companion, though his attention was mostly kept to the graveyard below. Now was the time to wait.

Remaining silent, take a seat and watch the graveyard. Keep an eye on the figure as well.