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Message: <blockquote data-quote="ellinor" data-source="post: 5608157" data-attributes="member: 14561">22x03TWIGGYTwiggy awoke before dawn.  It felt strange not to awaken Rose—but Rose had released her from that responsibility for the day.  Dressing alone, in the dark, Twiggy felt the weight of the day and the solitary nature of her responsibility as heavily as ever.Go is a game of psychology as well as strategy.  One must use all tools at one’s disposal to gain an advantage over one’s opponent, Twiggy told herself, as she donned traditional Hennan garb for the first time in months.  It had taken a couple of tries for the Sovereign tailors to get the cut right, but the Hennan style in rich Sovereign silks was quite striking.  She then sat down and began braiding her hair in the Elven style.  Normally, Twiggy wore her hair loose, with a single braid in the front that, in Elven reckoning, said “Little Branch"—but traditional Elves’ braids told their whole life story in braiding, knotting, and beading.  Twiggy had learned from her father, and from books, and by the time the sun rose, an Elf beholding her would know that before him stood Chelesta Little Branch Rossi, who was alive 18 years; worked in service to the House di Raprezzi of Pol Henna and the Inquisition of Cauldron; was a graduate of the di Raprezzi Academy for Arcane Studies; faced and shared in the defeat of Lurx of the Derro; and explored the wonders and terrors of the Ketkath.Twiggy examined her handiwork.  It might get me noticed, she thought, but only my playing can get me a spot across the board from Lady Mochizuki.For the Go tournament, the courtyards of the Adept house had been transformed into a stadium of sorts.  Dozens of boards were set up outdoors among the trees and sculptures.  As the competitors gathered, an official explained the tournament point system for wins, losses, and stalemates.  Twiggy tried to calm the vibration inside her belly and throat.  Brush off that cushion before sitting down, Acorn urged as the players took their places for the first round.  Thanks for being yourself, Acorn, Twiggy thought in response.  I was afraid you were going to act like Mena and tell me I’d trained for this.I was, Acorn replied, but then the cushion was dusty.Across the board sat a husky woman with gray-streaked hair.  Twiggy focused her mind on the game.  Their play was quite even, but Twiggy could see further ahead.  As Acorn paced nervously back and forth across Twiggy’s lap, Twiggy lured the woman into playing her stones in a vulnerable position.  Twiggy realized she’d been holding her breath, and released it.  That had been hard—and it was only the first round.The second round was easier:  a bookish man, using well-known patterns to try to force a stalemate.  Once Twiggy recognized the man’s strategy, it was easy to force him into a corner.  In the third round, Twiggy faced a retired merchant.  They were neck and neck throughout; each move had a counter.  It was close enough that a few people gathered to watch.  But in the end, Twiggy made just a few unpredictable moves—and like that, the merchant had lost.  Even the merchant was surprised, and cried out:  “You have me! She has me!  Amazing!”  That got people’s attention.Twiggy’s fourth round had an audience.  Her opponent appeared to be a nobleman, from his dress; he wore a prominent symbol of Kettenek around his neck, although it did not belong to a sect Twiggy recognized.  The man dove in with a strong offense, but he had no balance to his play, and Twiggy had momentum.  It was her most decisive win yet.The next round was the semifinal.  Twiggy breathed deep, using meditation techniques Nyoko had shown her, and searched in her head for dignified thoughts about testing her intellect.  All she could come up with was Eeeeeee!  I’m in the semifinal!!!!  Is this my life?Her opponent was an older man, with spectacles on the end of his nose.  He was, Twiggy noticed, the first person she’d seen in the tournament who seemed to be having fun.  As they began their game, he giggled and smiled to himself, and chattered on about past Go matches, no doubt played before Twiggy was born.  Past Go matches.  As the board began to fill, Twiggy noticed something:  They were recreating, move for move, one of the great historical matches.  It was played at these very Trials, in fact, decades ago.  She knew the match . . . and she knew that the man with the spectacles was playing the role of the winner.  Twiggy struggled to avoid hinting that she knew what was happening, and kept playing, kept the man giggling, and reached deep into her mind for a moment at which she could diverge from the historical game.  It came, at last, when the board was too full for comfort—but Twiggy knew she had a chance.  The man grinned and placed his stones aggressively, trying to box Twiggy into a corner, but he had been toying with her for too long.  The move had worked—Twiggy had won.Twiggy had won!  The courtyard erupted in chatter.  The honorable Heathen would advance to the finals against the most honorable Lady Mochizuki!  It was unheard-of; Adepts streamed outside to watch the match; the courtyard, once so filled with players, now filled with spectators.  Twiggy could see her friends in a bunch in the crowd—all of them.  Even Nyoko, who still needed to prepare for her nighttime performance, had managed to come to the courtyard.  The crowd stirred as Lady Mochizuki—tall, dignified, hair the color of steel—walked out to the courtyard and made her way to the central Go board.  She nodded to the crowd in recognition before sitting down, and instantly, all grew quiet.  Suddenly, it was as if she and Twiggy were the only people in the world.  With another quiet nod, Lady Mochizuki acknowledged Twiggy and focused on the board between them.  Her posture was steady, but not rigid.  Her face was serious, but not stern.  She plays an intellectual game, Twiggy reminded herself of Lady Mochizuki’s reputation.  Tactical, calm, and flexible.  She likes opponents who make her respond in interesting ways.Lady Mochizuki took an early lead, as Twiggy gave up several ko fights in rapid succession.  She’s testing me, thought Twiggy, and I will be temperate.  Then Twiggy went on the offensive, building several contested territories on the board.  She knew she could juggle multiple life-and-death challenges on a single board at once—and although she was forced to sacrifice one of the territories, she maintained her perspective on the board.  As they neared the end of the game, the board was controlled chaos, and had the look of a closer match than Twiggy knew it to be.  Twiggy could not win—but she protected her stones like a commander who would not leave a man behind.  When she bowed to Lady Mochizuki at the close of the match, Twiggy knew, she could be proud of her play.“Lady Chelesta-san,” Lady Mochizuki said, as they stood from their cushions, “your play would have bested most players.”Twiggy beamed inside.“The match posed the greatest of intellectual challenges, and was truly a pleasure,” Lady Mochizuki continued.  “Should you wish a rematch, I am at your disposal.  Do be in touch.”And in that moment, as she realized she had attained her goal of a private meeting with the head of the Ring of the Military, Twiggy almost cried.###KORMICKKormick's day was getting better and better.  First, he’d had a chance to enact justice and see Dame Mena at her very (most intimidating) best.  Now, he’d discovered a unique opportunity to make contact with the Eighths.  There was a boy—scruffy, and a little jumpy—who had watched each of Kiyari’s matches.  Kormick knew what a runner for a criminal organization looked like—and this boy was one.  After seeing Dame Mena off at the close of the final match, Kormick grabbed the boy’s collar.“What’s your name, kid?”The boy thrust his chin out defiantly.  “Aoki.”“Aoki,” said Kormick, “I know you work for the Eighths.  I’m going to need you to tell me the name of the leader of the Eighths in Cauldron.”  Aoki paused for a moment, just long enough to weigh his options.  “Daisuki,” he replied.  “Good lad, Aoki,” said Kormick, and clapped him on the back.  “Now, Aoki, you’re going to take me to Daisuki.”The kid knew better than to disagree.  He led the way to a tavern.  A faded sign outside read “The Inn of Generous Portions.” As soon as Kormick walked in, he felt right at home.  He knew where each dagger was hidden and where each guard sat, intermingled with afternoon drunkards.  And he knew exactly which one was Daisuki.  He was the burly man, with long black hair and small eyes, who radiated power.Kormick strode up to Daisuki’s table.  Two bodyguards stood up as Daisuki raised his eyes to this new arrival.  Without saying a word, Kormick calmly removed his warhammers and his Justicar holy symbol and laid them on the table.  He removed his Inquisitorial robe and folded it neatly on top of them.  Then he grabbed a chair, spun it backward, and sat down.  “Now we may speak.”Daisuki stared.“One of your men was found cheating at the wrestling Trials today,” Kormick said.  “I apprehended him.  But that’s beside the point right now.  I am not from around here.  In addition to being a Justicar and deputized Inquisitor, I am also a representative of my King, tasked with meeting the people who make things happen here.  You are such a person.  I hope that this is the first of many meetings.  The next time I see you, know that it will not be as an Inquisitor.”With that, Kormick stood up, righted his chair, collected his belongings, and left.  Daisuki still hadn’t said a word—but all he’d needed to do was hear, and he’d done that.###NYOKONyoko arrived at the performance hall at the same time as the young man who would play the role of Ehkt.  He looks more nervous than I feel, she observed.“My makeup artist suggested that I picture all of them in their underwear,” Nyoko told him, as they took their starting positions behind the closed curtains, “but I think that would do more harm than good.  I’d just crack up laughing.”The young man didn’t seem comforted.  “One of my heathen friends told me a saying,” Nyoko continued.  “‘Fear is the whetstone of the sword of intent.’”The other dancer raised his eyebrow.“I don’t get it either,” Nyoko replied.  The other dancer laughed.  Nyoko was glad to see him relax a little, but her own mind was racing for a different reason.  The time had come for her to deliver the group’s message to Brother Ono.  With only seconds to whisper in his ear, her words must be attention-grabbing yet succinct.  And when they had mingled at the Go matches, Dame Mena had given her a particularly specific suggestion…The curtain opened.Outside was a full stadium of people, seated on risers.  Hundreds of them.  Thousands.  Nyoko's friends were there, along with everyone from the Adept house, anyone of any importance in Cauldron . . . Nyoko’s stomach fluttered, but she caught herself.  The Mother Superior was on stage, speaking solemnly about the day’s accomplishments and the importance of discipline.  The crowd was silent, listening.  It was a stark reminder that they were still a long way from exposing the Mother Superior as the secret leader of the Tide in Cauldron.  But they’d have their chance to take one small step this evening:  The Mother Superior announced that the closing pageant honored the competitor who most exemplified the day’s virtues of stalwart spirit and enduring strength, Brother Ono.  She handed Brother Ono the headdress of Rikitaru.  The performance began.  Overall, it was very staid choreography; a stylized recounting of the <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/story-hour/251423-rose-wind-saga-halmae-updated-june-23-2011-a-18.html#post5195383" target="_blank">creation myth</a>.  Rikitaru’s movements were, as advertised, strong and stalwart; Alirria was, for most of the performance, recumbent on a divan.  Ehkt, as required, moved with broad, impulsive strokes.  The one exception was Sedellus—Nyoko—who flitted among them, eddying and twirling, tempting them to misdeeds.At the climax of the story, as Rikitaru wept, Sedellus whispered in his ear and handed him a cup of wine, as choreographed.  But what she said was not choreographed at all:“I am the rock, and the rock does not move.  We will stand with you, but we must speak in private.”Brother Ono almost spilled the wine.</blockquote>

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