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<blockquote data-quote="Delemental" data-source="post: 4917907" data-attributes="member: 5203"><p>Two weeks after their arrival in Petgrana, Sunlight Pierces the Canopy suddenly manifested before Ayama, who was lecturing some of the village youth on proper hygiene. “There is a large man wearing armor of white jade in the forest,” he said. “The man appears to be searching for something, and is growing quite angry. Should I assume that this is the sixth companion that you said would be arriving?”</p><p></p><p> “Yes, that is Kaliel.”</p><p></p><p> “Then I will show him the path, before he begins knocking over trees.”</p><p></p><p> Far away, Kaliel muttered under his breath as he led his mount through the thick forest, searching for signs of Ayama’s village. Just as he was about to turn around and retrace his steps, a sudden break in the clouds brought a ray of sunlight to the forest floor, and he caught a glance of a small game trail, hidden by bushes. On closer inspection, he saw the marks of a human boot-print on the trail. Kaliel muttered again; he was certain he’d inspected that area the first time he passed it.</p><p></p><p> Less than half an hour later, he was walking in through Petgrana’s gates. Ayama stood awaiting him.</p><p></p><p> “Welcome to my home,” Ayama said.</p><p></p><p> “It was surprisingly difficult to find,” he responded.</p><p></p><p> “Sunlight Pierces the Canopy is very protective of his territory,” Ayama admitted.</p><p></p><p> “I have something for you.” He reached into a saddlebag and pulled out a large leaf, the size of a sheet of parchment. The veins of the large green leaf were tinged with gold, and there were markings upon the surface. Handing it to Ayama, he said, “This arrived in Chrysanthemum for you.”</p><p></p><p> Ayama perused the markings on the leaf, and smiled. “Sunlight’s message to me,” she said. “At least he can take comfort that it was delivered.”</p><p></p><p> “Is there a problem?” Kaliel asked.</p><p></p><p> Ayama spoke to Kaliel about the village’s recent problems with the invading tribes from the East. As they spoke, both Ghost and Zanka joined them. Zanka had managed to acclimate herself for the most part, and was now only lightly perspiring. As they spoke, they were all surprised when a hawk with an unusually large beak suddenly sailed down out of the trees toward them. The hawk swooped low to the ground, but came in too fast, and it screeched as it tumbled wing over wing to a stop.</p><p></p><p> “That does not seem natural,” Zanka said.</p><p></p><p> The hawk stood shakily, and then it shimmered and stretched until it took the shape of Lenn. His shoulder stuck out at an odd angle.</p><p></p><p> “I have seen better landings,” Ayama commented, as she stepped forward and firmly tugged his arm back into the socket, using her power to ease the pain as she worked.</p><p></p><p> “It will take some practice,” he admitted. “The shamans have helped me discover that I have the ability to take on forms other than a mongoose if I ritually hunt them and drink their heart’s blood.” He grimaced as he rolled his shoulder in the socket. “Hunting a hawk is not easy. But I thought that being able to fly might be useful, especially here. Maybe I can help out with the town’s barbarian problems – scout from the air.” </p><p></p><p> “If these barbarians seek Petgrana,” Kaliel said, “then why not let them find it… and make them regret it.”</p><p></p><p> “I would prefer to know why they seek us out,” Ayama frowned. “Unfortunately, we do not speak their language well enough for an interrogation to be effective.”</p><p></p><p> “If I were able to speak with one of them,” Zanka said, “I might be able to learn the language well enough to learn what we need.”</p><p></p><p> Lenn smiled. “What do you say, Ghost? Are you up for a little abduction mission?”</p><p></p><p> “Sounds like fun,” he replied with a smile.</p><p></p><p> “Would you like assistance?” asked Kaliel.</p><p></p><p> Lenn looked over the massive, heavily armored Dawn warrior. “No thanks,” he said, “we will be fine on our own.”</p><p></p><p> “Do you really think you are that skilled?” Kaliel asked.</p><p></p><p> “Of course we do,” Ghost said.</p><p></p><p> “I seem to recall having to kick down the door of a certain manor house in Lagan because someone had raised an alarm,” Kaliel said. Ghost grinned and waved the comment off, but as soon as Kaliel’s head turned the smile turned into a scowl.</p><p></p><p> “Perhaps we should bring back a shaman,” Ghost said.</p><p></p><p> “I think a warrior will be fine,” Lenn replied. “A shaman would be missed quickly.”</p><p></p><p> Ghost pondered this for a while, and then sighed. “Very well. Let us go and prepare.”</p><p></p><p> Ghost and Lenn walked away, and soon Zanka departed as well, saying she was tending to the young children of the town while their parents were out patrolling the forest. Ayama also excused herself to present a lesson on hygiene to the young healer apprentices in the town, but promised to return later after he had settled in. Before she left, she asked one of the young women to assist Kaliel and find him lodgings.</p><p></p><p> As they walked, Kaliel looked around at the palisade wall, at the wooden platforms and rope bridges above, at the bowmen perched in the trees. “Tell me, young one,” he said at last. “Where may I find your war leader? I would speak with him about your defenses.”</p><p></p><p> “He has been on patrol,” the woman said, “but returned less than an hour ago. I can ask him to meet you at your lodge if you would like, Chosen One.”</p><p></p><p> Kaliel nodded, and after showing him to the longhouse reserved for guests and travelers, she ran off. An hour later, a tall young man with dark brown hair walked into the longhouse. He had the bearing of a Dragon-Blood, and a jade powerbow could be seen slung on his back. Kaliel did not remember Ayama mentioning any Exalts other than herself in Petgrana, but conceded that she had been gone for some time, and the size of the village had obviously grown rapidly. Looking the man over, he saw that the powerbow the man carried was one that they had taken from the Wyld Hunt in Cherak. Kaliel approved of the decision to gift the weapon to one of the town’s protectors.</p><p></p><p> “You are Kaliel,” the man said, stepping forward and offering his hand. “I have been told you wish to meet with me.”</p><p></p><p> “I would like to offer you some advice on strengthening the defenses of your town,” Kaliel said. “I have had some experience in such matters, as Ayama may have mentioned, and I would share that knowledge with you.”</p><p></p><p> The man nodded, rubbing his chin. “I see, and I thank you for imparting your wisdom. However, our defensive strategy is not centered on a fortified defense. My people are woodsmen, and have lived among the trees for generations. We focus our efforts on guerrilla tactics to harass and divert the enemy. Sunlight Pierces the Canopy makes certain that any aggressors never arrive here.”</p><p></p><p> “It is a good strategy in theory,” Kaliel said, “but what happens when they do arrive?”</p><p></p><p> The war leader sighed. “There we are not as strong. I fear that in some ways we have become too reliant upon Sunlight’s tricks for our defense. But the truth is that the natives of the town are not trained as warriors, and the tribes are too disparate to use as a united force. They are also more inclined toward offense than defense. Still, we have put up the palisade, which is something.”</p><p></p><p> “Then your best strategy might be a fighting withdrawal if these barbarians do reach your gates,” Kaliel said. “Hold then off while your people flee.”</p><p></p><p> “I consider that our best contingency as well,” the man sighed again. “And Chief Branch-Shaker of the tribes agrees with me. Unfortunately, we have been overruled by the other three elders, who are more… settled. In my mind, this is just a place, but they feel that we have some sort of divine mandate to be here.”</p><p></p><p> “I would say that the day that those barbarians are within sight of your sentries is the day these elders should be considered outvoted,” Kaliel said. “A good commander knows when to follow the orders of a civilian government, and when to bend the rules.”</p><p></p><p> The man smiled. “Perhaps I will present my argument to the elders again,” he said. “And I will tell them that you support it. The words of one of the Chosen Ones may carry enough weight to sway them.”</p><p></p><p> “I will gladly speak to your Council if it will aid you,” Kaliel said. “But for now, show me around and tell me about your defenses.”</p><p></p><p> Kaliel stood and followed the Fire-Blood outside. Looking around, he saw a group sitting on the ground nearby, all looking up at Ayama, who seemed to have fallen naturally back into her role in her home town. Watching her for a moment, Kaliel remembered that Ayama spoke frequently of her son, who still lived here. He would make a point to ask the war leader where he might find Rutendo when they were finished. </p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">۞</p><p></p><p> Ghost and Lenn traveled swiftly through the forest, running along branches and leaping from tree to tree, virtually invisible in the moonless night. As they slipped past the barbarian’s sentries and approached the main encampment, they slowed down to improve their stealth even further. Lenn shifted into his mongoose shape, and rode on Ghost’s shoulders for the remainder of the journey. Ghost considered wryly that this was the most comfortable he’d ever felt dealing with animals.</p><p></p><p> Finding the encampment was not difficult; a large swath of forest had been cleared, and hundreds of tents dotted the area. As Rutendo had reported, the tribes had moved in their children and elders, and their animals. Ghost marveled at the size of the camp; though certainly no expert on tribal lifestyles, he knew enough to know that it was unusual for them to gather together in one place in such numbers. </p><p></p><p> Lenn chattered, and then scampered off to scout out the encampment. Ghost remained back, surveying the entire scene. His eyes were immediately drawn to a very unusual sight; a large wooden structure, near the far edge of the camp. The structure was squat and solid, with no windows and only a single heavy door, heavily barred from the outside. The walls and door had been reinforced with straps of iron. Six guards stood outside the door. It was clear they were trying to keep something in, rather than keeping others out, but what? Ghost had heard no reports of the barbarians taking captives, and he was certain that they did not deal with criminals among their own people by imprisoning them. And what would prompt a nomadic people to build such a permanent edifice, let alone go to the trouble of working iron to secure it?</p><p></p><p> Silently, Ghost slipped down out of the tree he was perched in, and made his way toward the rear of the building. Getting close was no challenge; the building sat at the far edge of camp, and other than the guards, no one seemed willing to approach it. Once at the rear wall, Ghost pressed his ear against the wood, near a seam between two boards. Inside, he heard the sound of several people shuffling about, and an occasional moan. But it was not a moan of suffering or longing, but the soulless, hungry groan of the walking dead. The strong scent of rotten flesh inside only added weight to his suspicion. Chilled, Ghost retreated back to his previous position. From there, he studied the camp more closely, watching patterns of movements. Soon, he was able to distinguish a definite pattern. While most of the camp appeared normal and healthy, Ghost saw that there were large sections that had been segregated from the main portion, and in those sections the distance that people kept between each other grew wider. Those in the segregated sections moved more slowly, and in the section closest to the wooden stockade no one moved at all.</p><p></p><p> More chattering interrupted his study, and Ghost looked over to see Lenn sitting on his haunches nearby, waving him over. The Dagger of Heaven followed Lenn into the most active portion of the camp, to where several small tents were clustered together. They could see several of the barbarians clustered around small fires. As Ghost studied the area, Lenn shifted to his human form.</p><p></p><p> “What do you think?” he whispered. “One of these?”</p><p></p><p> “I think that a diversion is required,” Ghost replied. “Perhaps over in that area.” He pointed off in the direction of the wooden stockade.</p><p></p><p> “Sure,” he said. “Give me a count of a hundred and twenty.”</p><p></p><p> Ghost thought for a moment. “One round of <em>Five Dragons Sleeping</em>, then. Go.” Lenn slipped into the shadows and vanished, and Ghost turned back to the camp, scanning the potential targets as he quietly hummed to himself*.</p><p></p><p> He was ready to move up to one of the small tents nearby when he caught sight of a larger, more ornate tent decorated in snake motifs, clearly belonging to some sort of shaman or tribal leader. The flicker of light inside told him that someone was within. Kaliel’s words from earlier in the day echoed in his mind, and within moments, Ghost’s jaw clenched as he made up his mind.</p><p></p><p> Lenn’s count must have been fast, for Ghost had not quite finished <em>Five Dragons Sleeping</em> when he heard an uproar at the far end of the camp, and several warriors nearby stood up and began running in that direction, weapons in hand. Ghost slid up to the ornate tent and slipped in unnoticed.</p><p></p><p> A snakeman knelt in the middle of the tent, surrounded by candles and incense as he meditated. The shaman had barely started to open his eyes as Ghost stepped forward, grabbing a carved bone fetish off a low table and clubbing the snakeman across the temple. His reptilian eyes rolled back, and he slumped unconscious to the ground. Ghost quickly slung the limp form of the shaman over his shoulder, and slipped out the way he had come. Lenn was waiting for him as he exited the camp. After a quizzical look at the body, they disappeared into the forest.</p><p></p><p> They returned to Petgrana close to the break of dawn, crossing Petgrana’s walls and making their way directly to Ayama’s house, where he knew the others waited. They came through the door, and Ghost let the shaman drop to the ground, a look of satisfaction on his face. Ayama inspected the snakeman’s head, and saw that the skull had not been fractured. Rutendo, who was also waiting there, felt the shaman’s limbs and joints.</p><p></p><p> “As I thought,” he said. “He will be able to contort his body to squeeze through narrow spaces. I fear that the bars of our stockade will not hold him. I will have to speak to the shaman, to see if they can get the spirits to create an underground chamber like Zanka’s dwelling.”</p><p></p><p> “I can begin speaking to him in the morning, when he awakes,” Zanka said. “And perhaps we can learn why these barbarians are here.”</p><p></p><p> “I do not think we need the shaman for that,” Ghost said. “I believe I know why they seek Petgrana. They have been inflicted with the same necromantic plague that struck Chrysanthemum.”</p><p></p><p>-----------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>* Yes, Ghost uses music to keep track of time. And yes, I stole it from Hudson Hawk. Sue me. <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite2" alt=";)" title="Wink ;)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=";)" /></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Delemental, post: 4917907, member: 5203"] Two weeks after their arrival in Petgrana, Sunlight Pierces the Canopy suddenly manifested before Ayama, who was lecturing some of the village youth on proper hygiene. “There is a large man wearing armor of white jade in the forest,” he said. “The man appears to be searching for something, and is growing quite angry. Should I assume that this is the sixth companion that you said would be arriving?” “Yes, that is Kaliel.” “Then I will show him the path, before he begins knocking over trees.” Far away, Kaliel muttered under his breath as he led his mount through the thick forest, searching for signs of Ayama’s village. Just as he was about to turn around and retrace his steps, a sudden break in the clouds brought a ray of sunlight to the forest floor, and he caught a glance of a small game trail, hidden by bushes. On closer inspection, he saw the marks of a human boot-print on the trail. Kaliel muttered again; he was certain he’d inspected that area the first time he passed it. Less than half an hour later, he was walking in through Petgrana’s gates. Ayama stood awaiting him. “Welcome to my home,” Ayama said. “It was surprisingly difficult to find,” he responded. “Sunlight Pierces the Canopy is very protective of his territory,” Ayama admitted. “I have something for you.” He reached into a saddlebag and pulled out a large leaf, the size of a sheet of parchment. The veins of the large green leaf were tinged with gold, and there were markings upon the surface. Handing it to Ayama, he said, “This arrived in Chrysanthemum for you.” Ayama perused the markings on the leaf, and smiled. “Sunlight’s message to me,” she said. “At least he can take comfort that it was delivered.” “Is there a problem?” Kaliel asked. Ayama spoke to Kaliel about the village’s recent problems with the invading tribes from the East. As they spoke, both Ghost and Zanka joined them. Zanka had managed to acclimate herself for the most part, and was now only lightly perspiring. As they spoke, they were all surprised when a hawk with an unusually large beak suddenly sailed down out of the trees toward them. The hawk swooped low to the ground, but came in too fast, and it screeched as it tumbled wing over wing to a stop. “That does not seem natural,” Zanka said. The hawk stood shakily, and then it shimmered and stretched until it took the shape of Lenn. His shoulder stuck out at an odd angle. “I have seen better landings,” Ayama commented, as she stepped forward and firmly tugged his arm back into the socket, using her power to ease the pain as she worked. “It will take some practice,” he admitted. “The shamans have helped me discover that I have the ability to take on forms other than a mongoose if I ritually hunt them and drink their heart’s blood.” He grimaced as he rolled his shoulder in the socket. “Hunting a hawk is not easy. But I thought that being able to fly might be useful, especially here. Maybe I can help out with the town’s barbarian problems – scout from the air.” “If these barbarians seek Petgrana,” Kaliel said, “then why not let them find it… and make them regret it.” “I would prefer to know why they seek us out,” Ayama frowned. “Unfortunately, we do not speak their language well enough for an interrogation to be effective.” “If I were able to speak with one of them,” Zanka said, “I might be able to learn the language well enough to learn what we need.” Lenn smiled. “What do you say, Ghost? Are you up for a little abduction mission?” “Sounds like fun,” he replied with a smile. “Would you like assistance?” asked Kaliel. Lenn looked over the massive, heavily armored Dawn warrior. “No thanks,” he said, “we will be fine on our own.” “Do you really think you are that skilled?” Kaliel asked. “Of course we do,” Ghost said. “I seem to recall having to kick down the door of a certain manor house in Lagan because someone had raised an alarm,” Kaliel said. Ghost grinned and waved the comment off, but as soon as Kaliel’s head turned the smile turned into a scowl. “Perhaps we should bring back a shaman,” Ghost said. “I think a warrior will be fine,” Lenn replied. “A shaman would be missed quickly.” Ghost pondered this for a while, and then sighed. “Very well. Let us go and prepare.” Ghost and Lenn walked away, and soon Zanka departed as well, saying she was tending to the young children of the town while their parents were out patrolling the forest. Ayama also excused herself to present a lesson on hygiene to the young healer apprentices in the town, but promised to return later after he had settled in. Before she left, she asked one of the young women to assist Kaliel and find him lodgings. As they walked, Kaliel looked around at the palisade wall, at the wooden platforms and rope bridges above, at the bowmen perched in the trees. “Tell me, young one,” he said at last. “Where may I find your war leader? I would speak with him about your defenses.” “He has been on patrol,” the woman said, “but returned less than an hour ago. I can ask him to meet you at your lodge if you would like, Chosen One.” Kaliel nodded, and after showing him to the longhouse reserved for guests and travelers, she ran off. An hour later, a tall young man with dark brown hair walked into the longhouse. He had the bearing of a Dragon-Blood, and a jade powerbow could be seen slung on his back. Kaliel did not remember Ayama mentioning any Exalts other than herself in Petgrana, but conceded that she had been gone for some time, and the size of the village had obviously grown rapidly. Looking the man over, he saw that the powerbow the man carried was one that they had taken from the Wyld Hunt in Cherak. Kaliel approved of the decision to gift the weapon to one of the town’s protectors. “You are Kaliel,” the man said, stepping forward and offering his hand. “I have been told you wish to meet with me.” “I would like to offer you some advice on strengthening the defenses of your town,” Kaliel said. “I have had some experience in such matters, as Ayama may have mentioned, and I would share that knowledge with you.” The man nodded, rubbing his chin. “I see, and I thank you for imparting your wisdom. However, our defensive strategy is not centered on a fortified defense. My people are woodsmen, and have lived among the trees for generations. We focus our efforts on guerrilla tactics to harass and divert the enemy. Sunlight Pierces the Canopy makes certain that any aggressors never arrive here.” “It is a good strategy in theory,” Kaliel said, “but what happens when they do arrive?” The war leader sighed. “There we are not as strong. I fear that in some ways we have become too reliant upon Sunlight’s tricks for our defense. But the truth is that the natives of the town are not trained as warriors, and the tribes are too disparate to use as a united force. They are also more inclined toward offense than defense. Still, we have put up the palisade, which is something.” “Then your best strategy might be a fighting withdrawal if these barbarians do reach your gates,” Kaliel said. “Hold then off while your people flee.” “I consider that our best contingency as well,” the man sighed again. “And Chief Branch-Shaker of the tribes agrees with me. Unfortunately, we have been overruled by the other three elders, who are more… settled. In my mind, this is just a place, but they feel that we have some sort of divine mandate to be here.” “I would say that the day that those barbarians are within sight of your sentries is the day these elders should be considered outvoted,” Kaliel said. “A good commander knows when to follow the orders of a civilian government, and when to bend the rules.” The man smiled. “Perhaps I will present my argument to the elders again,” he said. “And I will tell them that you support it. The words of one of the Chosen Ones may carry enough weight to sway them.” “I will gladly speak to your Council if it will aid you,” Kaliel said. “But for now, show me around and tell me about your defenses.” Kaliel stood and followed the Fire-Blood outside. Looking around, he saw a group sitting on the ground nearby, all looking up at Ayama, who seemed to have fallen naturally back into her role in her home town. Watching her for a moment, Kaliel remembered that Ayama spoke frequently of her son, who still lived here. He would make a point to ask the war leader where he might find Rutendo when they were finished. [center]۞[/center] Ghost and Lenn traveled swiftly through the forest, running along branches and leaping from tree to tree, virtually invisible in the moonless night. As they slipped past the barbarian’s sentries and approached the main encampment, they slowed down to improve their stealth even further. Lenn shifted into his mongoose shape, and rode on Ghost’s shoulders for the remainder of the journey. Ghost considered wryly that this was the most comfortable he’d ever felt dealing with animals. Finding the encampment was not difficult; a large swath of forest had been cleared, and hundreds of tents dotted the area. As Rutendo had reported, the tribes had moved in their children and elders, and their animals. Ghost marveled at the size of the camp; though certainly no expert on tribal lifestyles, he knew enough to know that it was unusual for them to gather together in one place in such numbers. Lenn chattered, and then scampered off to scout out the encampment. Ghost remained back, surveying the entire scene. His eyes were immediately drawn to a very unusual sight; a large wooden structure, near the far edge of the camp. The structure was squat and solid, with no windows and only a single heavy door, heavily barred from the outside. The walls and door had been reinforced with straps of iron. Six guards stood outside the door. It was clear they were trying to keep something in, rather than keeping others out, but what? Ghost had heard no reports of the barbarians taking captives, and he was certain that they did not deal with criminals among their own people by imprisoning them. And what would prompt a nomadic people to build such a permanent edifice, let alone go to the trouble of working iron to secure it? Silently, Ghost slipped down out of the tree he was perched in, and made his way toward the rear of the building. Getting close was no challenge; the building sat at the far edge of camp, and other than the guards, no one seemed willing to approach it. Once at the rear wall, Ghost pressed his ear against the wood, near a seam between two boards. Inside, he heard the sound of several people shuffling about, and an occasional moan. But it was not a moan of suffering or longing, but the soulless, hungry groan of the walking dead. The strong scent of rotten flesh inside only added weight to his suspicion. Chilled, Ghost retreated back to his previous position. From there, he studied the camp more closely, watching patterns of movements. Soon, he was able to distinguish a definite pattern. While most of the camp appeared normal and healthy, Ghost saw that there were large sections that had been segregated from the main portion, and in those sections the distance that people kept between each other grew wider. Those in the segregated sections moved more slowly, and in the section closest to the wooden stockade no one moved at all. More chattering interrupted his study, and Ghost looked over to see Lenn sitting on his haunches nearby, waving him over. The Dagger of Heaven followed Lenn into the most active portion of the camp, to where several small tents were clustered together. They could see several of the barbarians clustered around small fires. As Ghost studied the area, Lenn shifted to his human form. “What do you think?” he whispered. “One of these?” “I think that a diversion is required,” Ghost replied. “Perhaps over in that area.” He pointed off in the direction of the wooden stockade. “Sure,” he said. “Give me a count of a hundred and twenty.” Ghost thought for a moment. “One round of [I]Five Dragons Sleeping[/I], then. Go.” Lenn slipped into the shadows and vanished, and Ghost turned back to the camp, scanning the potential targets as he quietly hummed to himself*. He was ready to move up to one of the small tents nearby when he caught sight of a larger, more ornate tent decorated in snake motifs, clearly belonging to some sort of shaman or tribal leader. The flicker of light inside told him that someone was within. Kaliel’s words from earlier in the day echoed in his mind, and within moments, Ghost’s jaw clenched as he made up his mind. Lenn’s count must have been fast, for Ghost had not quite finished [I]Five Dragons Sleeping[/I] when he heard an uproar at the far end of the camp, and several warriors nearby stood up and began running in that direction, weapons in hand. Ghost slid up to the ornate tent and slipped in unnoticed. A snakeman knelt in the middle of the tent, surrounded by candles and incense as he meditated. The shaman had barely started to open his eyes as Ghost stepped forward, grabbing a carved bone fetish off a low table and clubbing the snakeman across the temple. His reptilian eyes rolled back, and he slumped unconscious to the ground. Ghost quickly slung the limp form of the shaman over his shoulder, and slipped out the way he had come. Lenn was waiting for him as he exited the camp. After a quizzical look at the body, they disappeared into the forest. They returned to Petgrana close to the break of dawn, crossing Petgrana’s walls and making their way directly to Ayama’s house, where he knew the others waited. They came through the door, and Ghost let the shaman drop to the ground, a look of satisfaction on his face. Ayama inspected the snakeman’s head, and saw that the skull had not been fractured. Rutendo, who was also waiting there, felt the shaman’s limbs and joints. “As I thought,” he said. “He will be able to contort his body to squeeze through narrow spaces. I fear that the bars of our stockade will not hold him. I will have to speak to the shaman, to see if they can get the spirits to create an underground chamber like Zanka’s dwelling.” “I can begin speaking to him in the morning, when he awakes,” Zanka said. “And perhaps we can learn why these barbarians are here.” “I do not think we need the shaman for that,” Ghost said. “I believe I know why they seek Petgrana. They have been inflicted with the same necromantic plague that struck Chrysanthemum.” ----------------------------------------- * Yes, Ghost uses music to keep track of time. And yes, I stole it from Hudson Hawk. Sue me. ;) [/QUOTE]
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[Exalted 2e] Chosen of the Second Age
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