Session Report: 5 March 2021

The Fated Duel Begins

General Summary

In this session of Tsuwamono, the following events transpired:

Maxim's Tutor

1559年11月15日 21:00 (Evening)

Ago Manor

Historical Entry: Maxim's Tutor

  His revelation about the portal in Wakigami Castle's basement was finished and the yarn had spun out about Fujiwara no Fuhito's ancient deeds. With no other business at present, Maxim got the impression that he was being dismissed. Before he left, however, Empress Genmei had one more tidbit of information for him. Having been dismayed at his "embarrassing" display of attempted etiquette earlier in the day, she had used some of her influence to secure for him a tutor. This person, who even now awaited him at Ago Manor, would help him upon the road to becoming a Japanese gentleman.   That didn't sound good. Maxim shared a look with Evaine, then offered his services one last time to the Empress before taking his leave. She'd called him a "worthy subordinate" so at least he'd made something of a positive impression this day. Once they were outside, Evaine agreed that the only polite course of action now was to go see to their new guest.   Shigeaki Fujino seemed very distracted when Maxim called upon her. Something about Ryūzaki Sanosuke and juicy gossip. More fodder for the rumor mill, it seemed. Eventually she was able to pull herself away from whatever was happening and deliver Maxim, plus sheele, to the darkened corridors of Ago Manor.   The psychic didn't stick around after that. A stream of words flooded out of her mouth before she was gone again with that familiar "pop!" That left Maxim and Evaine alone. Or... perhaps not. In the darkness, just visible by the light of a moonlit window, a slender figure was waiting for them. The stranger's arms were crossed, his long, dark hair hiding his features as he leaned against the wall. Upon realizing that he'd been spotted, he ran a hand through his hair, revealing handsome, if slightly arrogant, features beneath.   Maxim had only encountered the man in passing before, but this was Netabi Shigehisa, former tactician to the Tachibana Clan. Apparently things had cooled down enough at the Palace of the Firebird for him to take on new work. That work started by teaching this "Western Barbarian" how to behave like a gentleman.   Already filled with a vague dislike of the dandy who now stood in his home, Maxim stepped forward when beckoned to do so. In the moonlight, the knight's own features were revealed. They were not entirely a lost cause, or so Shigehisa claimed. All other conversation was immediately dropped, however, when Evaine entered the pool of light as well. Shigehisa nearly gasped. From that point onward, he didn't shift his gaze to Maxim again. They'd start his lessons in the morning. First of those would be not to ask such blunt questions, like why Shigehisa was so focused on Evaine.   Perhaps thankfully, Evaine was not at all receptive to the other man's advances. She remained quiet and dignified, deflecting attention back to Maxim when she could, like a good squire. Shigehisa apparently wanted to know about her relationship with her knight in detail, but Maxim wasn't ready to explain that the woman by his side was actually a part of his soul. Let Shigehisa discover that later, when it would be most uncomfortable for him.   Finally, the Tachibana dandy took his leave. He'd come find Maxim in the morning to begin their lessons. Any objections the prospective student raised about the Tournament fell on deaf ears. He'd have to put forth a bit more effort than that, if he wanted to become a gentleman.   When Shigehisa was gone, Maxim felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. That man seemed insufferable; a "new foe" for he and Evaine to conquer. They could at least, according to the squire herself, lever the man's fascination in her to their advantage.   The moon was rising in the sky by this time, but Maxim still had business left to handle. He took Empress Genmei's Letter of Recommendation from his pouch, giving it a glance. The ancient ruler's writing was so archaic, the brush strokes so thick and cramped, that he might not have had a chance of reading it even if it were in English. That brought to mind a worrying possibility. Would the letter's intended recipient, Nagasone Kotetsu, even be able to understand its contents?   They would have to see. For now, Maxim summoned Kitsuno and Shishikura Makiko to meet him at the entrance. Those two would make fine reinforcements for whatever trial was to come next.
The Fujiwara Effect (Part 1)

1559年11月15日 21:00 (Evening)

The Tanuki's Glee

Historical Entry: The Fujiwara Effect

  The front yard of The Tanuki's Glee was lit only by torchlight when Ryūzaki Sanosuke once again arrived by his preferred method of transportation. This time the entry was not as empty as it was when he first arrived. In the shadows just at the edge of torchlight, a pair of intimidating figures lurked.   One was obviously an oni, although his proportions were more slender than the average for his race. From his battle-scarred armor to the grave expression on his weathered face, he bore the look of a veteran despite his apparent youth. His companion was even more extraordinary. Towering and bulky, with bundles of muscle straining at his pale skin, this "man" looked for all the world as though someone had plopped the entire head of a horse on a great oni's shoulders. A single horn jutted proudly from his equine snout. For all the bestial power his aspect suggested, this stranger's dark eyes did glitter with intelligence and his gear marked him as a Samurai.   Upon seeing Sanosuke's arrival, the two stepped forward as though they had been waiting specifically for him. The slender of the two introduced himself as Hayashi Genjirō Nobunao, a leading member of the esteemed Hayashi Clan. As Sanosuke gave his own name, his mind raced through what he knew of the organization. The Hayashi were powerful stake-holders in the Mōri Clan, largely because of the Iwami-Ginzan Silver Mine where they dwelled. This seemingly-endless deposit had contributed in significant part to Mōri Motonari's explosive rise to power. The leader of the clan and overseer of that mine was one Hayashi Hidesada. An ancient and powerful mystic, he held enviable power within the Mōri but mostly kept to himself as a recluse.   After a moment of reflection, Sanosuke realized Nobunao was speaking again. Nothing could have prepared him for what came out of that battle-scarred oni's mouth now. He was asking about Shōta. Specifically, just how much did Sanosuke know about that cretinous youth? Come to think of it, the Silver General had indeed noticed a change in Shōta's behavior since the youth was so brutally slain at the tournament. It was subtle—the boy was still as insufferable as always—but his confidence and presence seemed to have improved significantly. That was because, as Nobunao confessed, the clan's patriarch had taken Shōta's body for his own.   But that didn't make sense. Of all the people to be, why would anyone choose Shōta? Apparently that was just the reason he might have done it in the first place, according to the other Hayashi. Nobody would suspect such a horrible boy as hosting the intellect of one of the most dangerous men in Japan. Things hadn't gone quite that well, however. "Shōta" had stopped checking in. Indeed, he seemed to be avoiding his former family most fervently now. Both Nobunao and his half-brother, Hayashi Umanosuke, were worried that he might have gone rogue.   That was all well and good—Sanosuke filed away the information he'd been given for later schemes—but what did they want him to do about it? In answer, the oni reviewed what he'd already said. Shōta was avoiding them, and was quite good at it. With the ancient Dōhan's intellect and supernatural skill at his behest, he was nearly uncatchable. For whatever reason, he seemed to have developed an interest in Sanosuke, however. The Silver General might have a chance. If he'd deliver Shōta to them, through whatever means proved necessary, Nobunao would see Sanosuke well-rewarded. With the oni brothers' silver fortune, it seemed well within their power to offer a handsome bounty. Still hesitant, not wanting to get involved in whatever new madness this was, Sanosuke accepted.   The two thanked him and moved back into the night until even Umanosuke's ponderous head was out of sight. They'd be staying in town and easy to find, should he have an update. All Sanosuke had to do was ask around for the enormous horse man. After a moment to clear his head, the Silver General turned and made for the door of the Glee once again. As his hand was about to land on its wooden handle, however, he was intercepted by another mental message.   This time it was from Takenaka Hanbei and, thankfully, good news. Her ploy had worked. Kumagai Nobunao was even now evacuating Tachibana Castle and had swallowed the story and dream whole-heartedly. His only desire, according to the tactician on the other end, was to meet up with Sanosuke at some point for a rematch. He mused that it might be worthwhile to visit the big oni sometime. Then, sliding the door open, he entered quickly before any other lingering plots could interrupt him.   Inside, lit by a merry array of torches and a fire somewhere in the back, the tavern was much as he'd left it. His own party, comprising Aoki Michiko, Shigeaki Tōno, and Ryūzōji Ryōka, crowded around a table in the back. Closer to the center, the man pretending to be Shōta still sat flanked by two beauties. Both Hōzōin In'ei and Niiro Tadatsuru, however, looked a lot more bored than when he'd first departed.   A look and a few words were all it took. Kensei In'ei was only too glad to join Sanosuke outside for their long-awaited battle. Sensing that something spectacular was about to occur, the rest of the tavern's patrons soon funneled out onto the porch and lawn as well. Kono Minoko was amongst them, and had indeed been busy. A heavy pouch at her belt jangled with all the bets she'd collected. As Sanosuke and In'ei took up positions opposite each other on the stone path, he got the queer impression that some betting far greater in scope was taking place in a realm not so far away from his own. That bizarre sensation was soon dispelled by Minoko shouting out her proposed rules. No death, she emphasized. This was entertainment for her tavern as well as a destined duel or whatever, and she didn't want to risk spoiling any appetites.   While the others arranged themselves, In'ei commented that it would be her first time fighting someone as supernaturally "enhanced" as Sanosuke. That, and Minoko's muttered comment in response, made the Silver General acutely aware of how much he relied on others for his immense power. Neither seemed to offer any objections to the situation, however. Soon there was nothing to be done but fight.   As the call to fight sounded, Sanosuke seized the initiative, if just. He leapt forward to engage his opponent in melee. As he approached, he took in In'ei's curious form. With only an umbrella held slackly in her six arms, four of which were going unused, he was reminded of another time he'd fought against skilled opponents wielding multiple weapons in Kuzunoha's Temple. Although it was not that long ago, so much had transpired in the interim that it felt as though years had passed. Still, his arm ached in sympathy with an injury long overcome.   The two clashed in a flurry. Their weapons moved almost too quickly for the audience to track, bursting with small shockwaves every time they connected in the air. Through the exchange of blows, Sanosuke became aware that In'ei was blocking him quite skillfully, using that umbrella of hers as a shield to deflect and a staff to counter. Of course, none of the wooden pole's strikes had come close to piercing his many layers of protection, but Sanosuke could tell that In'ei's skill was not to be underestimated. On a measure of sheer mastery, she obviously surpassed him.   The Silver General had not attained his current power by relying on mastery alone, however. He finished his final strike, feeling power building in the hand with which he gripped the nodachi's long hilt. Once that energy finished suffusing the blade, he'd be able to strike with enough force to move mountains. As her opportunity to act arose, however, he was reminded once again not to take his foe lightly. Claiming that she'd be testing him against a "basic technique," In'ei then unholstered her cross-pronged spear and thrust it with such skill that it slid easily into the flaws of his armor. A flash of pain, not unlike that which he'd remembered before, shot through Sanosuke's arm as the blade pierced his shoulder.   The crowd gasped.   Sanosuke chided himself. He'd have to do better than this if he wanted to defeat Susano'o's champion. Taking advantage of a break in the onslaught, he swapped the enormous blade for two of more "reasonable" size. Wielding a full nodachi in one hand, he held Aretí's glittering length in the other. By striking with one and using the other specifically for parrying, he'd be able to greatly close the gaps in his defense.   In the crowd, Shōta was doing his best to be a nuisance. Burping, spitting, and generally being disgusting, Sanosuke kept an eye on the youth just in case he decided to try anything more active to interfere in the fight. So far everyone else had kept their distance, but he couldn't afford to put anything past that horrible boy. As his eyes swept back, Sanosuke through for a moment that he saw a barrel lid, nestled in the lee of the nearby stable, fall back down. Any further investigation was arrested by In'ei's renewed assault. The six-armed woman was now wielding her umbrella and spear with two hands each. Seeming to mirror Sanosuke's own strategy, she used the former to block while the other probed at her opponent's defenses. For now, Sanosuke was able to keep her at bay. He was only able to land a single glancing hit to his own name, however. Aretí cut through her light armor like it wasn't there, but In'ei's ki-infused carapace shrugged off anything lesser than a telling blow.   The unending flurry of stabs from In'ei's spear grew ever closer to wearing down even Sanosuke's iron defense. Finally, however, his awaited technique was ready. Calling upon everything he had, every ounce of strength his muscles could give, every blessing the Storm God bestowed, and all the energy he'd been pouring into his weapon for the past several exchanges, Sanosuke unleashed it all. Aretí flashed like golden lightning. The impact of each blow sent sparks flying into the night, and the sheer force of their clashes made the audience struggle to keep their feet. And yet somehow, impossibly, In'ei was blocking them. Her pointed feet dug into the ground with perfect intent, the Kensei's stance did not waver. Tapping Sanosuke's weapon at just the right place each time, his blade missed her by mere centimeters on each stroke even as it flashed like thunder.   The Guardian of Nara herself seemed delighted. She'd known Sanosuke was holding back, and this display of power was exactly what she'd wanted to see. As impressive as it was, however, she made sure the Silver General knew that there was nothing that could not be overcome with enough training. What she had just displayed in her defense was pure mastery. Skill great enough that even the stroke of a god could be turned away.   Feeling his strength sapped and the power of the Storm flee his body, Sanosuke despaired. That should have been powerful enough to fell anything in this mortal world, and yet his opponent still stood without a single wound. While panic raced through his mind, however, other, deeper workings were already planning out a solution. In'ei seemed to place a great deal of emphasis on her stance. The placement of her feet and arms when she'd deflected those blows had remained perfect in their intent, without ever an interruption or misplaced move. Perhaps if he somehow disrupted that stance, he'd be able to prevent her from using that insane technique to block his attacks again. At least, in one small mercy, she did not seem able to launch a counterattack when so deflecting his godly blows.   Meanwhile, Shōta was lurching to his feet, the only among their observers to have been bowled to the ground. Nestling himself into Niiro Tadatsuru's tall frame as she helped him up, a cunning smirk stole across his face. Sanosuke, however, could spare no time for that cretinous boy's farcical performance. His grip on Aretí tightened as he prepared to force his drained body back into the fray.
With a Cartful of Wamps

1559年11月15日 21:00?

Baharna

Historical Entry: With a Cartful of Wamps

  With their three trophies piled into a cart, pulled by the ever-helpful Sable Fox, the team led by Hashinara Yoshitakatomo made their way back to Baharna. Their path took them along the side of Lake Yath. On the trip to Tyrhhia, this had been a fairly unremarkable walk. On this return trip, however, they had company to entertain them.   Their new companion, eccentric "holy woman" Raspberry Pudding, had hardly stopped chattering since they'd departed. Her favorite topic of conversation seemed to be the many parties she was invited to within the Truffle Tsardom. These varied and colorful events invariably seemed to end in someone attempting to kill Raspberry and hide her body. Of course, she always survived through some stroke of luck or favor of fate. As Aotsuki Tsukamoto and Fubuki had seen during their encounter with the Wamps, she was far from helpless in her own regard as well.   At last the group arrived at the outskirts of the great port city, only to find empty streets under a starlit sky. That last was most concerning, as the sun had been high overhead while they were in Tyrhhia. None of them could quite pinpoint where on their journey, exactly, it had set. Nevertheless, it seemed to be closer to midnight than evening, and hardly a soul populated the once-bustling thoroughfares before them.   Stopped in the middle of a sentence by their arrival, Raspberry Pudding didn't offer any concern at the strange phenomenon. Rather, she wanted to know what they'd be doing from here on out. Prompted by Aotsuki's previous suggestion that Raspberry led a thrilling life, Hashinara Yoshitakatomo took opportunity to one-up her. With a droll, everyday sort of tone, the great Princess-Daimyō mentioned her* desire to uncover the secrets of Tyrhhia and the portal to Yomi below her* castle in the same breath.   And they had said Raspberry Pudding led a thrilling life.   The nun seemed most interested in a portal to the Land of the Dead. Indeed, she seemed to take it for granted that they would be exploring it without delay. Once they'd done so, she hoped that they'd tell her all about it. After all, Raspberry enthused, they would surely meet again.   That seemed to mark her departure, and yet Aotsuki had one last concern to voice. What of that foppishly-hatted man who had attempted to kill "Sweet Little Raspberry Pudding" and toss her body to the Wamps in the first place? Wouldn't he be shocked at seeing that she was alive and well? In answer, a wide grin Raspberry Pudding's fair features. They always were, she said, and Aotsuki saw something not far from sadism dancing around her crystal eyes.   Their traveling companion departed then, no doubt off to find entertainment or a vessel to Oonai, from which she could, apparently, cross into the Tsardom. That left the Yoshitakatomo Squad alone in the empty streets of Baharna, lit only by the lights in buildings overhead, and holding a cartful of dead Wamps. At least the emptiness of the place meant they weren't facing a crowd's reaction to the three fallen creatures in plain view. After a moment's more deliberation, the three determined to head down to the docks and see if any of those who had sent them on this task happened to be around.   After a short walk, the trio were greeted by a most marvelous sight. The pitch-black water was lit within by a multitude of luminescent specks. Swirling and dancing with the tide, the billion specks of light illuminated the harbor from below in an otherworldly green glow. It was quite beautiful, in its own strange way, although even the most learned among them could not determine the phenomenon's cause. Fubuki, who had since shed her* fox form, could only posit that the light was born of tiny, near-invisible creatures swimming in the sea. That was the root of a similar sight back on Earth, at least. Here, in the Dreamlands, who could say if it was the same?   In contrast to the deserted streets behind them, the port was dotted with individuals enjoying the night air and the view offered by that roiling, glowing sea. Fubuki spotted Jorani the Whitesmith at once. The buxom Baharnan was near the center of the tangle of docks and wharfs, apparently presiding over a competition between Sasaki Kojirō and Toba Himawari.   Whatever gumption Kojirō had used to lure the Dreaming Empress into fighting her hadn't seemed to have carried over to the competition itself. Musashi's would-be rival was at a severe disadvantage. Even as Yoshitakatomo's cohort approached, Kojirō forfeited another point and received a measure of scorn from Himawari to accompany the loss. With the Kensei's companions here, neither of them seemed inclined to continue. The mere association, however, seemed promising for Kojirō's goals within the Dreamlands.   Jorani tore herself away from the duelists to greet Fubuki, approaching down the long pier. She was thrilled to see the bounty of Wamps retrieved from Tyrhhia. Indeed, with her referee duties finished, Jorani offered to show Fubuki her "Wampwyrd" technique straight away. Of course, the Black Blade accepted. Informed along the way via a mental message from Taira no Tokuko, Fubuki passed on that their other client, Kravann, was awaiting them back at The Thing in the Attic where they were staying. It seemed as though they'd be able to finish both tasks before retiring for whatever passed for a night in this place.
A Meeting That Didn't Happen

????年??月??日 ??:??

Unknown

Historical Entry: A Meeting That Didn't Happen

  In a different place, clearly divided from the events of Tsuwamono, there is a table. It's unclear how many people are sitting at this table, cast in the shadow of the waving cherry blossoms above. Their figures are hazy, as if seen through a thick fog. Sometimes they reach out and grasp a cup of sake, filled from the great dish in the center, and raise to their lips. The pale liquid shimmers in phantom sunlight. Many drink, more of the liquor vanishes, but there always seems to be more to go around. Even watching the figures so partake, their features cannot be discerned. Each face is a confusion of colors and half-glimpsed familiarity. All, that is, except one.   Katamoto sits at the table with a brimming sun-red cup clasped in his gloved hand. He's enjoying the afternoon with some drinking buddies. All eyes are fixed on the bowl in the middle, through the rippling surface of which a battle can be seen. Whoever is fighting is a long way away, and has little to do with the people gathered here. Still, it's an enjoyable enough thing to watch while eternity ticks by.   "I don't believe I've ever seen Sanosuke lose," the masked man ponders. "With his strength, is it even possible?"   Another figure at the table laughs. The raucous, booming sound seems to bring him into focus. When General Baby Huey is fully glimpsed sitting at the table, his shoulders towering over the guests, it's a wonder how he could have been missed in the first place. He raises a large bucket in one hand, gripped like a sake cup, and toasts the air.   "More tea!" Then, "Sanosuke strong. But no one unbeatable. Right, Gamō?"   Before Huey's companion can answer him, however, another voice speaks up. This one is old, weighted with the experiences of many years, and sounds tired but not uninterested.   "Strength of the body is fleeting. If he has the mental fortitude to weather the storm, perhaps he has a chance," comes a series of tinny words, warped by the golden mask seated on the newcomer's face.   Baby Huey looks to his right, where the stranger now shares his table.   "You... Never met," the esteemed General grumbles. "Strong? Fight?"   The other doesn't seem to take the invitation well.   "I no longer seek violence. It has won me nothing in the past. Break me if you wish. I will not stop you."   Indeed, the Man in the Golden Mask makes no attempt to defend himself, or even look in Baby Huey's direction. He remains seated, staring straight ahead to the scene reflected in sake before him. His hand raises, bringing a cup to his mouth. After the ceramic clacks against his mask, he lowers it again, almost sadly.   "Hrmm..." The general looks down and considers himself, as if seeing the rippling muscles under red skin for the first time. "My death. Won me. Strength," he ponders haltingly. "Must thank. Master."   This last is met by a laugh. Or, perhaps, more of a squawk. The sharp noise could have not come from any human throat; it has more in common with a shrieking parrot than a human chuckle. Ba'al Berith is there, staring across the table from beneath his wide-brimmed hat. His eyes meet Baby Huey's and hold them.   "Kaka!" Another laugh. "Showing thanks to your betters is fine for a while, but what will you do when you can rise no higher, my fellow red friend?"   "Hrm?" General Baby Huey studies the fiery eyes now locked with his. Not in their burning depths, nor in the crimson plumage surrounding them, does he find anything familiar. "We fought. In past?" he ventures. Then, after a pause, "If cannot rise higher. Then wait. For stronger."   The shimmering bowl before them shines brighter in the light of a new flame. Ba'al Berith has taken his cup of sake and lit the top on fire with a touch of his talon. A wavering fire now graces its surface as he takes a sip.   "Many of us would not live long enough to wait." Katamoto, who had been silently watching the exchange, now makes his rasping voice heard once again. "And even then, many would just be waiting to die at that point."   As before, the Man in the Golden Mask seems to recoil, as though from some slight only he perceives. He coughs. "I envy those with the will to simply die."   Everyone has to restrain themselves from flinching when Baby Huey's fist impacts the table. The dishware leaps and clatters. Only the great sake bowl in its center remains still, only rippling slightly as it continues to display Sanosuke's fated battle.   "If no fight. THEN!" the General roars. "Eat. Drink. Oni live as such." His point made, the great red oni chugs the rest of his tea bucket with every sign of satisfaction.   After a moment of stunned silence, Ba'al Berith looks at the General curiously. "Have you met Ardenter and his lot?" he asks. That was the name of a great demon of Gluttony, not that Baby Huey would know such a thing. "I think you would get along famously."   "He Oni? Can be Strongest Oni?" The emphasis put on those last two words can be clearly heard in the General's tone.   "An oni?" Berith scratches a single wicked talon against his beak. The sound is not unlike a sword being sharpened. "Something like that. Call him a distant relative. But strong?" This time he squawks in laughter, but his eyes remain cold. "Not at all," Berith ends bluntly.   Fishing around in his enormous lord's coat, Baby Huey produces a folded piece of parchment. His size means that he doesn't even have to lean forward as he hands it across the table to the fiery bird.   "Tea Bucket Men," he intones seriously, "Recruiting."   "Hm?" Berith studies the folded square, but does not take it.   "Weak," Baby Huey explains in his halting manner. "We make stronger. Strong. We want stronger."   "Hoho!" This laugh was the most human of all those sounds parroted by Berith so far. "I'm honored, my red-skinned fellow. But I'm afraid I can't deliver this." The bird passes a talon through the finery draped across his own breast. He meets no resistance. "I'm dead, you see. My soul? Obliterated."   The General stares across at his drinking companion. Indeed, Berith is the only one he can see now. Somehow, at some point, the other two masked men seem to have faded into obscurity. His eyes swim.   "Tea... Drink much..."   But tea doesn't make you drunk. What could this mean? Thoughts sluggishly ooze around the General's head for a moment, then disperse as a massive armored hand rests itself on his shoulder. Craning his neck backward, Baby Huey is met with not a face, but a helmet. A featureless, black mess of twisted metal that's all too horribly familiar.   "Wake up, Baby Huey." The voice is grinding, like a coffin lid sliding back into place. "Wake up."   Baby Huey wakes up.

Rewards Granted

  • +1 total Kuma Commendation

Created Content

Report Date
05 Mar 2021
Primary Location
Secondary Location


Cover image: B站直播示范 by 行之LV
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