ForceUser's Vietnamese Adventures Story Hour! (finis)


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Session Two, Part Two

HIEN GAGGED and covered his mouth. He glanced at Woo, who looked at the fire with a concerned expression. Lei held his jacket sleeve to his face and stoked the flames. On the other side of the Golden Dragon’s yard, Mai and Vinh had dropped their load of rotted timber and were staring in their direction. Atop a stack of discarded wood planks, destroyed furniture, and assorted garbage, a blazing bonfire consumed the remains of the seven ratlings, the two kaung-shi, and the various giant vermin. Thick black smoke bullied its way into the atmosphere, and a wind from the nearby Red River coaxed it south over the Nobles District. The smell of charred putrescent flesh permeated the grounds.

“Maybe no one will notice,” offered Tam from the driveway. Woo shot him an incredulous look.

“Too late now,” grunted Lei, “might as well get it over with.” He stoked the fire some more. The heat was fierce in the afternoon sun. Hien stepped back, his face red and sweaty. The smoke drifted directly toward an adjacent estate, and dipped onto the manor house. Servants could be seen shutting windows on the property. A dog barked from the backyard.

The group had spent the day laboring inside the inn, ripping up ruined floorboards, clearing out nests of harmless vermin, and hauling junk and garbage out to the property’s edge. Hien and Vinh had spent a few hours cleaning the shrine before joining the others. Tran had been gone all day, off to the Market District to find artisans and laborers for hire. Chung Lah had made an appearance, watching in silence from the property gates as the party worked. He departed shortly after midday without a word. After a short discussion that afternoon, the group decided to burn the corpses of their foes, and now they watched in embarrassment as the evil vapor marched across the estates of the wealthy. Whoops.

The adventurers put their heads down and worked. As they continued, spectators could be seen from time to time at the gates, pointing at the fire or the inn. A few household guards arrived, angry about the smoke, but there wasn’t much they could do. It was illegal to set foot upon the Emperor’s property without permission, and the party ignored them. Finally, a City Defense Force patrolman arrived and demanded acknowledgement. Woo trotted over, taking note of the two house guards flanking the soldier. They each wore different uniforms.

“You there! Why…ahhh, a monk!” The soldier began to bluster, then noticed Woo’s attire and instantly changed his demeanor. “Pardon, sir, but why are you burning this fire within city limits? The City Magistrate has declared that no fires be burned until after the first rainfall of the season.”

“Forgive us,” Woo said simply, “We were not aware.”

“This property has been closed for years. Are you an imperial employee?”

“Yes, we work for one of the Emperor’s mandarins. Yao Ren Phai.”

“Aiii…a yao ren!” exclaimed the soldier. The house guards traded nervous looks. “Forgive me, honored one, but if you have imperial sanction then these men have no argument. Normally, a permit is required to build a fire in the off-season. Fire is so deadly, and your smoke is blowing into people’s homes. This man’s employer has a weak constitution and begs that, if at all possible, you put out the fire.” He gestured at one of the guards and smiled ingratiatingly before continuing. “Also, I am shamed to ask, but may I see your writ of employment?”

That gave Woo pause. “I’m afraid I don’t have such a document. The administrator who hired us is at market today. When he returns I will ask him to copy our writ and send it to your patrol station. We will put out the fire. Forgive us for causing you trouble. One of our number is a healer, perhaps he can treat your master?” Woo looked at the guard indicated. The man nodded and responded in a scratchy voice, “Of course. My mistress is Tien-La Thi Cao, and her home is over there, across that retaining wall from the Golden Dragon.” The man pointed. Woo looked and nodded.

“If that is all?” the monk indicated he considered the conversation over. The men-at-arms thanked him, bowed, and left.

They put out the fire and buried what remained of the bodies under the back of the lot. Hien collected his healing kit and visited the Tien-La estate, later describing the experience as something best forgotten. To put it mildly, the old woman had not been friendly. Tran returned late that afternoon with a few foremen in tow, and they appraised the property with experienced eyes. Yes, it could be done in nine days with a large enough work force. Yes, they knew some gardeners and painters, and a man who worked in iron who could repair all the gates. It would be expensive, Tran calculated, but within the party’s means. That settled, the group secured the property with the new padlock Tran had bought that day and returned to their rooms at the Jade Unicorn. Mai sat with Dai and Shu late into the evening, talking about the events of the day. Dai was excited that the Golden Dragon was to be restored, but behind Shu’s friendly smile was a businesswoman trying to find out if she was about to have competition.

The next day, workers showed up, a general foreman was chosen, and the revitalization of the inn began in earnest. Tran oversaw the project, and was heard humming happily to himself throughout the day as he made decisions, settled disputes, negotiated contracts, and chatted with the foreman about building code and property values. The rest of the party helped as they could, allowing the professional artisans and craftsmen to direct their efforts. The grounds teemed with over forty workers, and wagons and carts brought supplies throughout the day.

Things progressed. The first few days were spent tearing down the old and the unsafe, and the next few days found the crew building up the new. The iron gates were removed and repaired, and several buildings were re-roofed. The entire grounds were landscaped with fertile soil, and trees and bushes were shipped in from the market and planted into the new gardens. A reflection pool was dug, flowers were planted across the grounds, the koi pond was emptied, scrubbed, and refilled and old walkways were dotted with new flagstones. Gables were repainted, as was the gold dragon atop the main gate, and furniture was bought and moved into the newly floored rooms. The foreman argued vigorously with the party about the hole in the earth inside the stables; he wanted to build a shed around it with a solid lock. The group insisted, however, that the hole remain untouched, and the worker finally gave up in frustration, turning his expertise to other matters.

On the evening of the eighth day since the remodeling began, Woo raked rocks around the new garden while quietly meditating. The day’s work was done, for the most part, and in the dim light of dusk the workers collected their things and left in small groups, headed to their homes and dinners. The foreman lingered at the family gate of the compound, talking with the artisan who’d repaired it. The man glanced down the drive while talking, then whistled to get Woo’s attention. Someone stood at the front gate. Woo started, his reverie broken, then nodded at the foreman – an honest man and a hard worker – and trudged down the path to the entrance. Many visitors had come by during the remodeling. According to Dai, the Shih’s District was abuzz with talk of the reopening of the Golden Dragon; apparently, it had once been quite the popular establishment. People had also approached the group at night when they gathered to recap the day at dinner, inquiring about this or that and trying to get a sense of the reason behind their efforts. Are you the new owners? Was it finally sold? Did the Emperor plan on going into the hospitality business, one fellow had wryly asked (this elicited quite a chuckle at the table). No, no, and no. Just following orders.

The man at the gate stood like a king surveying his domain. He was tall, middle-aged, and wore the traditional garb of a wealthy lord. He watched Woo approach with an air of bemusement, but smiled when the monk arrived to greet him. Woo bowed, and the lord bowed back – barely. “Hello!” said Woo, “I am Han Woo. Can I be of some service?” The noble nodded and gestured with his left hand. His right hand he held behind his back, in proper courtly fashion. “Greetings, honored one. I am Nguyen Vo Do. You’ve met my wife and daughter, I believe. They run the Jade Unicorn.”

“Ah, yes!” exclaimed Woo. “Would you like to tour the grounds?”

“I’d be delighted.” Woo opened the door for him, and the man strode through. “You are of the Han Bai school, are you not?”

“Yes,” said Woo, honored. “I am here at the request of the state.”

“Really? How interesting,” said Nguyen. “I have been away on business for some time, but my wife informed me that we might have some competition now, so I thought I’d see for myself.” He grinned.

“Ah! Um, this way,” said Woo. He led the merchant through the garden, pausing at the stone-wreathed reflection pool before leading him up to the house. They walked through the guestrooms, stopped at the shrine, and then exited through the family gate back out onto the grounds. Woo was careful not to take Nguyen anywhere near the stables. “I am most impressed! You’ve done very well!” beamed the man. “Thi Dai speaks highly of you and your friends. Will you join us for dinner tomorrow night? We would be honored.” Nguyen inclined his head at Woo and smiled again. A bit nonplussed, Woo agreed. He led the merchant to the main gates and bid him farewell.

What an odd encounter, he thought.

Dinner was, if anything, tedious. Tam neglected to attend, and Lei quickly decided he was the lucky one. It was obvious that Thi Shu and Vo Do had a vested interest in remaining on top in the local hostel industry, and they guarded that interest by peppering the group with veiled questions and suggestions regarding the operation of such a place. Dai and her younger brother Vit were simply excited to have such interesting guests, and much of the meal’s conversation centered on the group’s home regions and lives. The party spent the evening trying to keep the conversation light and off the topic of the fate of the Golden Dragon. For the most part, they succeeded, but Mai couldn’t help but notice the subtle looks of satisfaction on the parents’ faces. They obviously felt they’d accomplished something tonight. Mai didn’t know what.
 
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Han Woo

Woo is a somewhat stuffy monk. He is slow to give over his trust in others (a throwback from his past that I won't go into at this time). Of the group, Woo likes Vinh, frowns at Tam, scowls at Lei, and tolerates the others.

Vinh has noticed that some of Woo's martial arts, where he mimics the movements of a mantis, are not those taught by the Han Bai. The others, are oblivious to such things.
 

Session Two, Part Three

THE SORCERER grunted once in acknowledgement as he brushed by the assembled party on the grounds of the old inn. Tran led him up the path, pointing out this and that, and Woo and Vinh followed at a respectful distance, ready to answer any questions. Behind the rest of the group, Chung Lah stood at the main entrance. Scowling, of course. The man never smiled.

As Tran related the events of their assignment, Phai nodded brusquely and inserted occasional comments. “We have never heard of these rat-men, master,” noted Vinh, “Do you know what they are?” “Vermin,” replied the yao ren, “They are of no consequence.” Tran took the little procession around the finished grounds of the hostel, pausing in various rooms to explain to the mandarin what they had found there. The man seemed impatient. Finally, Tran led him to the stables and displayed the gaping hole in the earth. He outlined in detail what they had found below.

“We weren’t sure what you wished us to do with this pit, master, so we left it alone.” The noble deferred to the sorcerer.

“Close it up.” Yao Ren Phai replied. The three young men bobbed their heads.

“It will be done,” replied Vinh.

Minutes later, the group stood with the mandarin in front of the estate. “You’ve done well,” he declared, “You may be the servants the Emperor needs. For now, he will keep you in his employ with a continued retainer of one hundred taels twice a month.” He paused. “The Golden Dragon will be your home until further notice. You may arrange your quarters as it suits you and live in it how you wish. However, you will not reopen it as an inn. You will not profit off the Emperor’s grace. A housekeeper will be sent along at the expense of the imperial scepter. Have you any questions?” A bit dumbfounded, the party shook their heads. “I will not call on you for some time; there are other matters that require my attention. Do as you wish, but do not leave Thang Long, and stay out of trouble. Should people ask, you are the owners of the property and are using it as a private residence.” This gave them pause.

Hesitantly, Woo ventured, “We have already informed several people of the nature of our service here.” Phai scowled and said, “Who? Give me their names.” The group discussed it briefly and came up with a short list. “Very well. I will deal with this. Do not spread the nature of your employment about carelessly henceforth. Understood?” They nodded. “Then farewell.” The sorcerer departed with a flourish, bodyguard in tow.

“Wow,” said Hien, echoing the general sentiment of the others. They turned to look at their new home. Several of them displayed happy, lopsided grins. Perched atop the iron gates, the painted dragon grinned back.

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The next month passed quickly. Woo, Vinh, and Lei spent most of the time in physical training, honing newly learned skills. Lei also spent his time building a practice yard for the three of them and grooming the horses. He spent many of his evenings in the stables, and the others soon noted his love for the animals. With Mai’s help, Tam tracked down an older wu jen who lived in a squat pagoda-like tower in one of the city’s poorer districts, and convinced the man to part with some spell scrolls, which he eagerly scribed into his own spellbook. Hien spent his days at doctors’ clinics around the city, tending to the poor and the elderly, and his nights reveling in his powerful new-found Sight, which allowed him to peer across into the places where the Spirit World borders the mortal realm.

A fortnight later, the Fish Festival arrived in Thang Long, heralding the end of summer. For three days, multicolored streamers and fireworks filled the air, partygoers took to the streets, and rice-paper boats set with candles drifted down the city’s many canals. The temples and shrines burst with folk waiting to offer thanks to their ancestor and patron spirits, and street vendors hawked rich foods and drink. The celebration culminated on the third day with a massive parade down the Emperor’s Avenue, the single widest lane in the city, which ran all the way from the East Gate to the West Gate and circled the Imperial Palace at the center. All in all, everyone had a fine time, and Mai used the festival to earn her keep with Bay and the giang-ju, pilfering the houses of the rich while they danced in the streets.

Two nights into the festival, Hien sat in his room studying the bronze statuette Mai had found on their first day exploring the Golden Dragon. He had bought a set of weights and measures and an alchemy kit, and had deduced that although the exterior of the object was made of bronze, the interior was solid lead. Odd. As he sat there pondering why someone would make a statuette of lead, the shadows in his room grew thick, choking the light from his candle. Startled, he stood up and glanced around, peering into the dark and the realm of spirits simultaneously. Something – a shadow within a shadow – moved along the south wall and slipped into the night. Hien followed cautiously, grabbing his cudgel and quietly stepping over the sleeping form of his fox, Sca. As he crept to the exit, he heard a loud thump from the shrine next door. “Hello?” he called outside. Nothing. Most of the others were out celebrating, although he knew Lei was somewhere on the far side of the estate, building his practice yard.

A cool breeze greeted Hien as he stepped into the night. The moon shone bright as leaves rustled across the deserted grounds. He walked to the shrine’s entrance, and could hear revelers laughing in the distance. The rice paper and wood door was slightly open even though Hien was certain he’d closed it that afternoon. Gripping his cudgel tighter, he advanced on the door and slowly drew it back to reveal a waking dream. Instead of the 10x15 interior of the tiny shrine, he saw a long corridor into darkness. A chill mist rolled out from behind the door into the night, swirling about his feet. And standing twenty feet down the shadowy, ethereal hall was – impossibly – a beautiful maiden.

She seemed both older and younger than Hien himself. Her long white robes were gilded in gold and cut in an alien design; likewise, her hair coiled high upon an elaborate headdress atop her head, in an equally unfamiliar style. But her eyes…her eyes captivated Hien. They were dark and lustrous as a pair of finely cut onyx stones, and in the moonlight filtered in from the family yard they glinted in…fear? No, sorrow. So lovely was the woman that Hien felt her sorrow as a living thing bursting from his chest, and he heaved a ragged breath to choke back tears. “…Lady?” he whispered.

But the woman turned and walked down the hall, trailing one exquisite hand along the wall as she went. Hien stood dumbfounded, merely watching. But she turned and held his eyes with hers, a plea. Before he realized it, Hien had stepped into the tunnel and left the night behind.

Shadows enveloped him, and the mysterious woman became the bright, blazing center of his universe. He stumbled after her as the dark groped at him, trying gamely to catch up to her, to ask her who she was, and what he could do to help her. But try as he might, the gulf between them widened, and so he ran, down the corridor, stumbling into the walls and careening along until he thought his lungs would burst from his breast, and still he could not catch her. And then she stopped short, and Hien saw she stood at the end of the corridor at a pair of doors. They were massive, impregnable, daunting. Ringed in cold silver, gilded in pale blue light, taller than the sky. Somehow, Hien had stopped, shaking and exhausted, but a few scant paces from the doors. His breath, he noticed, puffed out into the air visibly, and he wondered what that meant. He shivered, and realized that beneath the sweat, he was cold.

She smiled at him then, a wan smile, a smile of hopelessness, and touched the doors. Then she was the doors, then she was behind the doors, and then she was gone. Hien cried out and rushed forward to fling open the massive portal, but when he touched it a shock of ice ran through his soul, and he screamed in pain and crumpled. When he opened his eyes, he lay on the floor of the shrine.
 
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Session Two, Part Four

TAM PONDERED the young shaman’s story. “Interesting,” he said at last, “We have never heard of such a thing. The apparel you described was also unfamiliar to us.” The wizard sat down on a stool next to the shaman’s bed.

“Well, she’s gone now. And I don’t know what it meant,” the young man sighed. The others assumed Hien had seen a vision sent by the spirits, but even so they heeded his suggestion to post guards on the shrine for most of the following day. All was quiet, however, and he hadn’t seen the strange young woman since. “I think she wanted to show me the door. Or lead me through it. Something!” He got up and paced the room. Sca darted around his feet.

Except for the person on guard duty, everyone had pitched in that day to fill up the hole in the stable floor. It was painful, backbreaking labor, but they got it done, emptying all the barrels back into the pit, and filling it the rest of the way up with dirt from the back of the property. As they lay about late that morning resting from their efforts, the housekeeper had come calling.

“I am Mister Ng! Let me in!” he had declared upon arriving. Bemused, Lei had opened the gates and welcomed him. Mister Ng was a crusty old geezer who stood all of four feet tall. His back was bent from a lifetime of labor, his iron-gray hair stuck out at wild angles, and he squinted like a coal miner exposed to light for the first time in days. His hands were large and strong, though, and they found out later, deft as well. He had taken one look at Lei and marched him off to market to buy fresh garlic and carrots. He had then hoisted his baggage on Woo and sent the monk along to find him suitable quarters. “Who are you again?” Woo had asked. “I am your new servant,” the old man had replied smugly. The monk wandered off to puzzle over that one while the housekeeper commandeered the kitchen. When he pitched a fit about some unfathomable discrepancy concerning the cookware, Mai decided she could use a relaxing night at the docks among the killers and thieves. By dusk, Mister Ng had those who’d foolishly remained behind rearranging the furniture throughout the estate, “because the feng shui was hideously wrong.” That night however, he cooked them a grand feast that almost made up for the extra work. Almost.

After several more days, it was decided that Mister Ng was a fine housekeeper who did his job flawlessly. He kept strange hours though, and it was generally surmised that he did not sleep in his room at the Golden Dragon very often. Curious, Mai followed the old man one night when he disappeared after dinner. He meandered through the darkened streets of the city, eventually entering an alley in a little-traveled area of the Market District. She watched as he walked to the end of the alley, exchanged money with a couple of ruffians she didn’t know, and disappeared inside a warehouse building for several hours. Later, the housekeeper exited, shared a joke with the ruffians, and continued on his way to the Garden District, where he knocked on the door of a tiny home that shared a wall with a bakery. A wizened old woman answered, and they exchanged pleasantries before she finally let him in and closed the door. Mai waited a bit, then left. The next day, a friend of Bay’s told her what the place in the market was: an illegal gambling den. Ah. Well, she was certainly no one to judge, and she let the matter drop without telling the others.

Four days later, after nearly two months of complacency, Yao Ren Phai arrived on their doorstep during the evening meal, ever-present bodyguard in tow. He appeared more relaxed than usual, and even offered a twitch of his lip that could have been a smile. To Hien, he seemed to be favoring his left side, and Mai noticed that Chung Lah’s boots were caked with crusty red mud. The sorcerer waved away an offer of dinner and got straight to the point. “It is time you continued your service to the Emperor. You will leave within three days for the city of Te Han in the south…”


NEXT:
THE CURSE OF THE MONKEY WOMAN!
 

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