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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Rolzup" data-source="post: 2822969" data-attributes="member: 10105">The Mysterious Han Oi XianSo.  The situation before us was as follows.Delphine had been kidnapped, by person or persons unknown.Only a few days earlier, a previous kidnapping attempt had been made, directed by a man riding in a sedan chair, which we had foiled.The missing greengrocer, King Daikon, has been revealed to be a prisoner of the dyer Han Oi Xian, along with a tribe of "Sea-Devils".Han Oi Xian, as we had learned, was well known for riding about in a sedan chair identical to the one that we had seen, and....What?Yes, Abraxis, I'm sure that I'd mentioned that.  Don't contradict me, damn you!  If I say that I've already mentioned it, then by thunder!  I've mentioned it!Abraxis, if I want your opinion, I will pry open your cast-iron cranium and retrieve it by hand!  Have I made myself clear?Very well, then.  Now, where was I?GETTING THINGS WRONG.  AS USUAL.Ah, yes!  So, it was clear that we would have to crush Han Oi Xian like a bug, and retrieve Delphine before he did anything permanent to her.But Kenji, naturally, decided that it would be better to try sweet reason first.  Madness, clearly.  I saw no point in arguing with the fellow, though, and agreed that we might yet learn something.  And, if naught else, we would get a close look at Xian’s defenses.Off we went, after first entrusting Blub-Blub to Mop Mop Bow.  And so, several hours later, we leapt into action.  Before knocking on his gate, we took a moment to better survey Xian's hidey-hole, that old monastery that I mentioned earlier.I did mention it, did I not, Abraxis?  Yes?  Thank you.JACKASS.To reiterate, however, it was an ill-maintained building with a courtyard surprisingly empty of vats, and presses, and other such tools of the dyer’s trade, surrounded by a large wall, with a rather dodgy-looking tower in the rear.  Further reconnaissance showed that the rear of the building faced the Seleices river, with only a crumbling wharf separating the monastery from the water.The tower was, surprisingly, seated within the river itself.  It rose a good three, perhaps four stories high, and a narrow bridge of planks connected it with the building proper.To either side, Xian's lair was surrounded by blocks of warehouses, some tenanted and some empty, which actually came directly up the walls of the monastery.  "Careless indeed," I thought to myself.The crowd had dispersed by this time, and the courtyard gates had been closed once more.  I knocked firmly, and announced my name.  The gates, eventually, opened.  We explained our purpose to the lackey, and entered the courtyard while he went to seek his master.I found it odd, that courtyard.  I'm no dyer, but I've no end of experience with chemicals of all sorts, and know the process of dying well enough to discourse knowledgably upon the subject.  I'd already noted the puzzling absence of equipment, but there was another lack that we even more unlikely: there was no odor.  Sniffing the air in the courtyard, I could detect nothing more than Little Azakhan's usual stench.  This made no sense at all.It was then that Han Oi Xian made his appearance.  He was rather younger than I had expected, and sported an absurdly long and slender moustache, but he dressed well (for a foreigner), and carried himself with a certain dignity.  He was not, in short, what I was expecting of a man reputed to be a fearsome crime-lord.  What's more, Xian also showed himself to be well-spoken, lacking even the barbaric Azikhani accent.He invited us inside, and I -- fighting to hold back a smirk -- accepted.  Xian was playing right into our hands.  Or so I thought.  He refused to give us a tour, infuriatingly enough.What little we saw was revealing of the man's personality, but little else.  The building was well appointed, and better maintained that it appeared from outside.  The artwork and such were lamentably foreign, but that was hardly a surprise.Kenji complimented him on his taste, and opined that Xian had done a marvelous job on the place."This is a terrible place," Xian replied.  "Children were murdered here."Kenji, for once, was silent.It transpired that the statue of Kruetzel, god of cooking and patron of chefs, that stood in the courtyard was more than it appeared.  Blasphemously (at least, to those who give a damn about Kruetzel), the statue's face had been altered to resemble that of the bishop Sebastian Babulabla, the previous owner of the monastery.  This Babulabla was a man of singularly unpleasant habits, by all accounts, and had committed any number of horrible crimes on these grounds.  He'd used the building as an orphanage, and had abused his charges in a variety of ways.I remember my precise response. "An orphanage, you say?"I SOMETIMES WONDER IF HE'S DEAF AS WELL AS STUPID.Now with a monastery one expects a certain amount of...how can I put this delicately?  Buggery, shall we say?  But with an orphanage, one would expect somewhat less.ONE DAY HE'LL FIND THE FORMULA FOR COMPASSION. I KNOW IT WILL POISON HIM.There'd been more than a few murders, Xian told us, and there were rumors that he had even consumed the flesh of some of his victims.I made a witticism at this point, about what one might expect from an orphanage dedicated to the God of Cooking.  It was not well received.Babulabla was executed, in the end, and the Church of Kruetzel moved heaven and earth to cover up his crimes.  I've spoken before, I think, of the sham that we call religion?  I shall make a point of going into greater detail upon the subject later in this narrative.However, these crimes were horrible, certainly.  But thankfully, long in the past.  Xian, oddly enough, went on to claim that the sprits of Babulabla's victims still haunted the monastery, unable to rest.  Poppycock, clearly.  I was a little saddened, in truth, to see that a man of learning was so superstitious.  But then I reminded myself that he wasn't Erisian, and could not be blamed for his ignorance.The many paper lanterns about the building, he went on to explain, had been hung to quiet these restless spirits.  The lanterns were, he claimed, filled with 'the Shu of the Air'.  This meant nothing to me, but Doctor Wu seemed impressed.It was at this point that my keen eye noticed a portrait, beautifully executed in an Erisian style, of a woman with a striking resemblance to the missing Delphine!  I pointed this out, and Xian Kenji, seeing an opening, launched into a verbal assault on the unsuspecting Xian.There's no way the man could have prepared for such a barrage, and -- criminal or no -- I actually found myself feeling a little sorry for him.  Kenji appealed to him as a countryman, as a nobleman, and as a warrior, to give up his evil ways and to release Delphine from his clutches.Shockingly, Han Oi Xian held his own.  He was in self-imposed exile from his home, he was actually a half-blood who cared little for the Azikhani Empire in any case, and his mastery of the "Shu" made him more than capable of defending his home from the likes of Kenji.  Little did he reckon with the power of Burne, though....In the end, we left, with Xian still unslaughtered.  Desperate though the situation may have been, there was still no call to violate the rules of hospitality.  It is this, and table manners, that separate us from the beasts.But it was time, clearly, for violent action.</blockquote>

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