Knight Of Cups

Mission:

It was hot in the hall of the Lord Governor of Tsukiakari. The tall stone walls and ceiling, while white-washed and immaculately cleaned, acted as an oven in the summer heat. Near the open bay windows, the court ladies stood fanning themselves as the men sweated in chainmail and plate.

The Governor was hunched over a golden platter, seated in a tall-backed chair at the head of a long table, fingering cubed morsels. Sunburned jowls quivered with excitement as servers displayed new delicacies before him. His ruddy face slack with disinterest as his Lictor read reports of unrest--the Lictor was a tall man, sickly thin with watery blue eyes, dressed in a hauberk with the hilt of a greatsword peeking over his shoulder.

The weather may have been sultry in Tsukiakari, but the mood was icy, Inaba concluded as he wiped beading sweat from his brow. He had been seated at the far end of the table with no such greeting and watched as court business resumed. Even as a line of thieves was brought before the Lord Governor, their shackles rattled as they hobbled along; the Governor didn’t even bother raising an eye from his plates. He sentenced them to death with a thumbs-down. Inaba pursed his lips as a waft of cool air from the windows touched his face. He brushed damp hair from his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

“And now the business with the Reds,” The Lictor intoned, “It has come to our attention that our calls for help have been answered,”

"Has Hoshi decided to send us supplies and promised to reinforce our levies?" The Lord Governor coughed,

"It would seem so, my Lord. Ah, and the Mercenary, my Lord," The Lictor reminded,

"Oh, right, right," Lord Govenor took a swig of wine, lifting his eyes to those seated around the table, "Which one of you is Kurobane?"

WC: 314

The young man dressed in black and white robes had robbed Inaba of his chance to clarify the correct pronunciation. He must be someone of note, Inaba thought. Watching others rise to honor the man's presence, Inaba squinted at the man. Nobody I know. The Mercenary mimicked the gesture and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with those beside him, awkwardly shifting his weight between legs that had gone numb from sitting. He retrieved a pack of Kumo Sizzlers, pulled one from the package, and lit up.

"It's Kurohane," Inaba nodded at the newcomer, acknowledging his attempt.

"Lord Governor," A thin stream of smoke poured from his mouth, "I've had difficulty accumulating any tangible evidence on their base of operations. My interviews with the residents here have proved fruitless. The people are suspicious of foreigners, such as myself, and are hesitant to involve themselves in the feud by word or deed."

"It's been difficult? Fruitless?" The Lictor said, "You have been paid ample coin, and in a month, what do you have to show for it? Nothing."

"I didn't say I had 'nothing,' I said–"

"What about the prisoner? Surely, you got something from her,"

"By the time I got to ask her anything, she would have told me the Hokage was a Reindeer if I so wished."

"What are you saying exactly?" The Lord Governor asked,

"I'm saying your inquisitors were too liberal in their work. She was babbling, half-crazed when I met with her."

Any quiet muttering or whispered gossip at the far corners of the hall were hushed at the mention of Inquisitors. Inaba took another drag and then looked between the Lord and his Lictor. He noticed the Lictor was posturing for another question but interrupted him before it came.

"I've been speaking with some of the healers in your sick ward. A couple of patrolmen came in ill last week and died of a high fever within three days. Another checked in yesterday–similar symptoms."

"And of what relevance is this?", The Lord Govenor snapped in frustration,

"They've been poisoned. Your healers are quite skilled though, they're working on antidotes. I probed the patrolmen and found all three frequent a certain Inn near the docks; they eat there together after their shift. Unfortunately for them, they dined wearing your Lordly colors."

The Lord Governor huffed, reached down to his plate, and squeezed a ripe grape between thumb and forefinger.

"Give me twenty men, and we'll visit the Inn and ask some questions," Inaba said,

"Lord Hogokage," The Governor turned to Ayato, "What do you make of all this?"

Lord Hogokage? Lilac eyes narrowed into slits. He appeared too young to be a Shadow. He couldn't remember how old the 11th was, but Kaito seemed ages older than himself, even the 12th was in his own generation. This boy on the other hand had to be a decade, no, maybe even younger. Inaba wiped away the sweat beading on the back of his neck. Cigarette smoke rose around his face in a coil as he pushed back the lapels of his blazer, and buried hands into pockets.

WC: 518
TWC: 832

The Lictor seemed to flinch at the mere mention of the Shadow taking control of the situation, but the Lord Governor waved away his servant’s apprehension with a corpulent hand.

“Lord Hogokage has the right of it,” The Governor answered, closing any discussion on the topic.

Inaba nodded, pulled his balled fists free from the pockets of his slacks, and followed in line with Heaven Country Shinobi out into the city. It had been a long time since he had been in the presence of shinobi, Inaba realized. The soft padded steps of their toeless sandals versus his scraping loafers on cobblestone caught his attention as they walked. Inaba looked between them. The color of their flack jackets may have differed from Kumo, but there were more similarities than differences: Their stiff posture, their gait, and their reverence for the Shadow. He felt a pang of regret in the pit of his stomach of what could have been.

The sun pressed down on the cobblestone streets, down on Inaba’s head; he could feel it on his scalp and the back of his neck. He pushed a sagged forelock ripe with sweat from his eyes and clenched them to shield from burning sweat. As they passed a group of laborers building a causeway, Inaba took his blazer off and draped it over his forearm.

Inaba was content walking in silence–preferred it. He never knew what to say to the Shadows--had never spoken with his own Kage, but Inaba could recall seeing him off in the distance a few times, perhaps once or twice with his apprentice “The Drunk Doctor” Ichi. After a sufficient amount of awkward silence, he spit the butt of a cigarette onto the ground.

“Best to keep a watchful eye on the Lord Governor and his Lictor. This type of strife is never unwarranted. The cost of grain is outpricing the average wage. And I'm sure it isn't too hard to figure out who owns the granaries."

Inaba lit another cigarette.

"I may have twisted the truth back in the Great Hall. The people here aren't so suspicious of outsiders as I let on. I've had quite a few interviews with citizens, many of them aren't so fond of their liege. That's the problem. How can I report to him that half the city hates him? Half the city could be Reds as far as I know."

WC: 399

TWC: 1231

[OOC: Sorry for the slow response, man. I've been working out of state, and we're in our busy season. I'll try to be more attentive to this roleplay.]

As they walked through the bustling city, Ayato's gaze wandered over the vibrant yet tense streets. The people moved about their business, but there was an unresolved unease. He saw Inaba take another drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke blend with the air around them. The sun beat down relentlessly, and the physical discomfort seemed to mirror the city's turmoil. Inaba's voice broke the silence again, his words revealing a deeper understanding of the challenges at hand.

"It would not entirely surprise me." The Kage replied softly. "Tsukiakari had fought for the Pretender during the Hoshimura Rebellion. Their lands and incomes passed to the Governor only recently. "The response underscored the situation's complexity.

The historical context of Tsukiakari's recent past revealed deep-seated divisions and grievances that were still simmering beneath the surface. Transferring lands and incomes from the pretender Kage's supporters to the Lord Governor had left scars that hadn't yet healed. The weight of history, combined with the economic disparities, had created an environment ripe for conflict.

"It's a precarious situation: a divided city, economic struggles, and the looming threat of the Reds. But perhaps, in this precariousness, there's an opportunity. An opportunity to bridge the gaps, address the injustices, and show the people that change is possible." They had to be cautious, but they also had to be bold.

The Kage glanced at the older man, his gaze steady. "If we can find a way to alleviate the people's grievances and offer them hope, we might weaken the Reds' grip on their hearts."  

As they continued their journey through the city, Ayato focused on his steps, each a measured tread toward uncovering the truth and guiding Tsukiakari toward a more hopeful future. The combined efforts of the Heaven Country Shinobi, Kurohane, were their best hope in navigating the treacherous waters of political unrest and simmering tensions.

[WC: 316]

Inaba listened. He listened as they walked through twisted sidestreets. He listened as they passed creaking wayns; Inaba craned his head to the teamster who urged his mules on with a whip snap. He listened as they passed groups of drunken sailors outside thatched roofed pubs, mugs of ale in their hands, their voices coarse and sonorous as they egged on a fistfight between fellow patrons. He listened over the throng of the brawl as more and more context on the situation trickled from the Shadow. Historical context Inaba wasn’t privy to. Ayato may have been many things, Inaba decided, but he was a shadow who cared.

He took another pull from his cigarette, they were getting closer now, Inaba could smell the salt from the sea and hear the faint lapping of waves in the distance.

“The thing about peace,” Inaba said, “--Oh, right.”

Inaba halted mid-sentence, his eyes widened on recalling his true intention for taking this job. Someone he had been after for a while now. He stopped in the street, slipped his hand into the pocket of his blazer, and produced a crumpled piece of paper. Inaba flattened it against his forearm, smoothing out its crinkles, then displayed it to the Hogokage. It was a page torn from a Bingo Book.

"I previously took a contract with an employer out of Ame to find this Missing-Ninja. Before he went Rogue, Uchiha Zaled served under the Kazan regime, and formerly still, Lord Hogokage, he served your village. I'm assuming he worked under your predecessor. Zaled seems to be a typical turncoat, but he is rather elusive, and through all my digging, I've found little and less."

[WC 279 TWC: 1510]

Ayato's lilac eyes narrowed as Inaba presented the crumpled Bingo Book page. The name Uchiha Zaled was not unfamiliar to him, but the man's reputation had never been particularly prominent within the village. Zaled had left Hoshigakure during a coup, a decision that had led him down a different path.

"Uchiha Zaled," Ayato mused, his voice measured as he considered the name. "I've heard of him, though he never made a significant mark in Hoshigakure. His departure during the coup didn't go unnoticed, but he was never a high-profile figure."

Inaba's determination was evident, and Ayato couldn't help but respect his resolve. "I understand your pursuit, Inaba," Ayato replied, calm but sympathetic. "Chasing missing ninjas is a challenging endeavor. They're elusive by nature and tend to fade into the shadows, seeking their path or vendettas. While our current mission takes precedence, I will let you know if I come across any information about Zaled. We're here to address the immediate threats to Tsukiakari, but we won't disregard your quest.." 

Ayato's lilac eyes met Inaba's, and he nodded in affirmation. It was clear that the young Hogokage respected Inaba's commitment, even if their primary focus was on the pressing issues facing the city at that moment.

 "We all have our scores to settle, and seeking closure is natural. Let's focus on the task and see where our paths may lead."

With that, Ayato and Inaba continued their journey through the streets of Tsukiakari, the weight of their respective missions adding depth to the shared purpose that bound them together.

[WC: 268]

One more puzzle piece. A few here a few there, but there were always more to be had, more to be sought after. What Ayato knew wasn’t very illuminating, but when you’re stumbling in the dark, even the faintest of light can keep you moving forward. Inaba could hardly believe his luck. But that was how things were: the harder you looked, the less likely you were to find anything. Pay a thing no mind, and it gives itself to you unbidden. He crushed a fuming cigarette underfoot as the Hogokage spoke his piece. Inaba thought he detected a touch of sentimentality through brusqueness speech. Ever to the matter at hand, though.

“I appreciate it more than you know, but you’re quite right, back to our task,”



Snog and Grog was a cozy-looking pub in the lower city, nestled between a Blacksmith’s forge and a Boatswain recruitment office. All of its shutters were thrown open, praying for a breeze off the harbor to whisk away rotting fish stench. Inaba stopped short fifteen paces or so off its entrance, patting at a pocket for his cigarettes and letting a passing group of sailors enter before their retinue.

“Best to send some boys around back, keeping an eye or two on the backdoor never hurts.”

He made to move towards the entrance but stopped himself and turned back to Ayato.

“I suppose if it comes to arms here, you should know, I’m not much of a hand.”

Inaba half ducked as he passed through the doorway, letting the Hoshi shinobi form in a half circle behind him. The crowd went silent, staring at their metallic headbands and weapons on hips. He was no good at this type of stuff, preferring to work alone in the shadows. This job required someone more officious. But we all have roles we must play.

“I am here in the name of the Lord Governor of Tsukiakari,” His voice boomed,

The customers buzzed with chatter. Inaba found sinister glances everywhere he looked. A place that at first had felt warm and bright had gone cold, and as he looked around the shadows seemed to grow long.

“Pipe down!” He commanded, “Bring out the staff,”

A matronly woman from the kitchen came forth, wiping greasy hands on an apron. Brows furrowed and expectant.

“Can we help you, good Sirs,”

“You can get the rest of the staff out here now, Red”

Her eyes went wide, all the blood in her face disappearing.

“S-s-s-ir”

Chairs squeaked at the far end of the room. The bartender slapped his palms on the countertop as if to make a point. His chest swelled, bracing himself for a bellow, but Inaba was there in a blur, bringing a tanto out from his hip, and drove the blade through the back of a palm, pinning it to the tabletop.

“Arrgh,”

“Stay seated,” Inaba commanded the room, looking back at Ayato in hopes he would start with his questions.

Two more workers were funneling out into the main room, standing shoulder to shoulder before Ayato. They were just kids, their dirty ragged faces seemed grim to Inaba.

WC: 523
TWC: 2033

Ayato observed as Inaba took charge of the situation at the Snog and Grog pub. The cozy establishment, tucked away in the lower city and surrounded by the aromas of the blacksmith's forge and the nearby boat recruitment office, had taken on an air of tension as the Hoshi shinobi entered.

Inaba, ever vigilant and quick-thinking, suggested placing some team members around the back of the pub, ensuring they covered all angles. It was a wise precaution, and Ayato nodded in agreement.

"Agreed, Inaba. It's always best to cover all possible exits," he replied.

Then, as they approached the entrance, Inaba turned to Ayato, voicing a concern. His admission that he wasn't proficient in combat was an honest acknowledgment of his strengths and limitations. Ayato appreciated his honesty.

Inaba led the way into the pub, with the Hoshi shinobi following closely behind. The patrons inside fell silent, their gazes filled with suspicion and curiosity as they noted the metallic headbands and weapons of the newcomers.

Inaba wasted no time and made his presence known, invoking the name of the Lord Governor of Tsukiakari. The atmosphere in the pub grew colder, and the room felt tense. Shadows seemed to lengthen as Inaba commanded the staff to come forward.

Ayato observed the exchange, noting the fear in the matronly woman's eyes as she emerged from the kitchen. But then, when Inaba addressed her as "Red," her expression shifted from fear to surprise and realization.

As the room held its collective breath, Ayato watched Inaba's swift and decisive action with admiration and concern. The bartender, confronted by Inaba's tanto blade, was pinned to the table with a hand impaled. The pub's occupants remained seated, subdued by the sudden events.

Ayato knew it was time to take control of the situation and steer it towards their objective. Stepping forward, he addressed the room, his voice carrying the authority of a Hogokage.

"We are here with questions," Ayato stated firmly, "We seek information about certain individuals and activities related to the Reds. Cooperation will be met with leniency. Resistance will not."

He glanced at the two young kitchen workers who had emerged from the back. Their grim faces told a story of hardship, and Ayato hoped their cooperation could help shed light on their embroiled situation.

"Start by telling us what you know about the Reds," Ayato prompted, keeping his tone firm but not unkind, allowing them the opportunity to speak.

[WC: 406]