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[Dwarmin]

Raggansh blinks.

Diplomacy 10+3 vs Greed 4+2. Diplomacy successful!

Feleris modifier: +1 to appeal to sympathy, +1 to appeal to power, +1 promise made (no more intrusion)
Troll modifier: +1 for wanting a shiny treasure, +1 Distrust of Everyone

"Kay...you keep little shiny, spare little men a pounding.

Raggansh remember his Trollmother, get sad she gone too..."

Raggansh sniffs, and a few stony tears spilling out and clattering to the ground. He notices you watching, and quickly composes himself in true Trollish fashion.

"Erm...Raggansh not crying, just bleeding from eyes!

Now go from Raggansh land! Let poor Trolls sleep in peace!

Be breaking promise, I be breaking heads!"

[lawastooshort]

"Ha! Was this true...? As my elders told unto me when I was but a girl? As I tell the striplings under me? Yes, this was so. But what I don't tell, and the gods forget why - what your elders don't tell, what we don't tell... there were no Sakane, no Jiang. Well, no more so than there were your father, my father, their fathers - there were the Hundred Families, there were just us, the mountainfolk, the Great Constellation dropped from the sky itself, caught on the peaks of mountains and descended into the valleys to distribute heavenly Right... And for a while, yes, we were Right, we were justice, we were the silent voice of the silent poor.

But then? The Golden Age came to an end, and neither of us truthfully remembers why... probably the Great Lords themselves spread this division amongst us, spread the greed, the jealousy, put the Sakane and the Jiang before the other Hundred, and over time we forged ourselves this idea... that the Golden Dawn would be one or the other, Sakane or Jiang, forgetful of the truth that we are one and the same.

So yes, this was so."

Goseki let the silence grow for a few minutes as the pair marched on. She felt tired suddenly. She hadn't spoken so many words for many years, and certainly none so plain.

"Your blood is my blood, Young Daughter."

[Dwarmin]

The young Ninja is silent, for once.

"Old Mother, perhap that was once so...but all I have known in my life is conflict."

She sighs, a sad sound-almost making her sound as old as Goseki herself.

"You call me your blood, but how can an accord be reached, after so much blood has been spilled? By my own hands even... If I was to describe the Sakane I killed, would you recognize a face? Would you want strike me down?

I have lost friends as well...and family. You are wise, and maybe you can forgive me...but I am not sure if I could do the same to you.

What does it matter, anyway. Our clans are dying, old mother. We are all dying. Only the Source can save us...and who says it can save both?"

Both Ninja fall silent, contemplating their mutual doom.

For, the Sakane have no more children-and will die out once and for all with Goseki, the last master remaining.

On the other side, the Jiang has too many children-and with no wise masters to guide them, they have begun to free fall into becoming little more than mercenaries and bandits, thugs for hire from the same tyrannical lords they once hunted.

This is what the young Ninja cannot bring herself to say, though her shame burns even through her mask. Why else would she take this hopeless quest?

[lawastooshort]

"Dying... pff. Time was when a ninja was only killed by their own mistakes... and how little has changed, eh. Anyway... both, one, neither, it's the same. Come, there is blood in the air."

Goseki fell silent and moved on, imperceptibly hastening her stride. She let her mind wander over the possible motivations this girl had for seeking the Source, weighing up the two she felt most likely, and thought about what she might consider a successful end to her own quest. She was beginning to believe they could be connected, and to see how, but she needed more time to break through the youngster's defences.

Goseki knew that she couldn't fail her quest as a matter of duty, blood, and word, but failure would mean death, and if she died - well, what would it all matter? She sometimes had trouble balancing these two truths in her heart.

[IronyOwl]

Rykmar hesitated, torn between his desire to not offend the holder of part of his soul, and his desire not to walk into an obvious trap.

In the end, he gulped slightly, and decided on... a compromise, of sorts.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken," he said politely. "I belong to no one but myself."

He waited nervously for the result. This was neither one thing nor the other, but whether it was a skillful compromise or weak flailing, he couldn't say. He didn't trust walking into her court with a phrase like I own you hanging in the air and unchallenged, however.

[Zako]

Rhogar took a deep breath, his gaze wandering over the large structure below him. He had finally made it, the fortress was before him and his orc opposition far behind. Now all he had to do was get inside and start looking for the source.

Rhogar starts by looking for enterances to the fortress from his higher vantage point, after which he will make a quick check on his opponent's progress.

[Tiruin]

((Guys, bad news. Our villain is...a villain. He won't be responding, the poor ol' goblin.

{Moderation Log} In other words, Dave1004 got banned, as well as some others this past weeks.}

[Dwarmin]

((Well then, his character will get eaten by a Giant Toad in over the top fashion. :V ))

[Zako]

((Eh, he was gonna die sooner rather than later. No big deal. Also, villains for the story ROCK. I'm totally making one if I die!))

[Tiruin]

((What if someone from the waitlist takes over Tin-cans?  Also forgot our action, thought by Raggansh's words that we had already acted.))

>Continue the trek north. Follow Halbarad's plan.

(You agree with this Ochita?)

[Ochita]

(Mhm, yes I do)

Keep up with the elf, share my potatoes with him.

[Dwarmin]

Rykmar hesitated, torn between his desire to not offend the holder of part of his soul, and his desire not to walk into an obvious trap.

In the end, he gulped slightly, and decided on... a compromise, of sorts.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken," he said politely. "I belong to no one but myself."

He waited nervously for the result. This was neither one thing nor the other, but whether it was a skillful compromise or weak flailing, he couldn't say. He didn't trust walking into her court with a phrase like I own you hanging in the air and unchallenged, however.

Rykmar hears an intake of breath from the Nine.

Lust smiles icily. Rykmar tries not to cringe as he sees her make a snagging motion toward him...but before she can, he feels a reflexive burst of energy above him. Opposite of the room, Greed has opposed her, saving another portion of his soul from getting stolen.

Greeds heads grin.

"You'll owe me for that, Rykmar. I don't do anything for free."

Lost: Greeds Favor (now at Neutral)

Lust seems pretty angry-a trait of the young Demon Princess, unfortunately, is lack of temper. Her fell beauty is but enhanced by the effect, causing Rykmar to smile foolishly for a second, before shaking his head and regaining his compsure. But the will of the Nine is against her for now.

"Well, I shan't start a war with Greed over so minor a thing. Do you want it or not, Rykmar? For I do have a deal to offer-for this and more besides...but it cannot be spoken in council. Follow me, if you dare..."

She leaves in a huff for her own court-and below her, a bright pink portal swirls, beckoking Rykmar onward. The only way he's getting it back is through her. Literally and metaphorically, most likely.


Greed seems interested as well.

"You know, Rykmar-if you're not attached to that specific part of your soul, other arrangement can be made...I can provide a soulgraft...at an appropiate price."

Rykmar winces. That's probably the last thing he wants to do. Grafting portions of another Demons soul to your own is tricky...not unlike organ transplanting of our own modern world, the Demon body might choose to reject it-or the graft itself may retain enough strength to actively resist it's host, if it's large enough. Desperate Demons can find their bodies being slowly taken over from the inside out by a malicious foe.

Zealotry looks over to Wrath. They seem to come to some sort of agreement.

"You know, Rykmar, Wraths Arena opens this week! We have some truly ferocious beasts to entertain the masses. Perhaps you would like to enter? Soul Payment in advance!"

Another viable choice. If you don't mind being rended by Hellhounds, Hellhydras and Hellbears...

[IronyOwl]

Rykmar winced again. He had more faith in his ability to negotiate with Lust- utterly bungled first attempt or no- than he did his talent in single combat.

"I... believe I shall take my chances with Lust," he said, walking towards the portal. Now he owed Greed and Lust; such was the price of failure.

Enter Lust's court.

[Dwarmin]

Greed speaks behind as you leave. His voice is a low rumble, greedy and calculating.

"Yes, you'll owe me Rykmar-now, or later. What I saved you from losing and interest accumulated..."

Wrath and Zealotry seem offended.

"I knew he was a craven coward! Any Demon worth his salt could take an hour in the arena!"

Wrath roars in anger. Rykmar feels the back of his neck scorched.

Lost: Wraths Favor (now at Neutral)
Lost: Zealotrys Favor (now at Neutral)

Pride is distracted, batting away a toy boredly. Close inspection reveals the toy is actually a captive Demon soul.

...

The swirling pink portal takes Rykmar to the Court of Lust-a palace made of her own warm flesh. Needless to say, sort of disturbing.

Like most of Hell, it's fairly decorated with all the hubris the Demon Princess can muster-if only to showcase the erotic decadence for which she is known for. Living paintings, statues and walls of Human, Demon and Animal engaged in said acts writhe imperceptibly in Rykmars peripheral vision, but he ignores those. Wise to do so, for to spend any amount of time is to drawn into them.

He keeps his eyes to the front. Lust 'throne' room is, not surprisingly, a large bed-quite comfy by the look of it. Her trophies ring the room in disgusting splendor-thousands of tiny bottles, each holding a portion of a Demons or Mortal soul, or all of it-trapped forever, gazing upon Lust, but never being free-satisfiying her vanity in whole, and providing eternal temptation with no promised release. Rykmar is quite visibly reminded of the price of failure.

Rykmar instinctively knows where his is-his gaze is drawn to the left and down. Bottom Shelf. He can make out his soul portion (which looks like a miniture version of Rykmar) pounding helplessly against the walls of his glass prison.

Lust dangles her feet over the bed, favoring Rykmar with a knowing glance.

"I knew you had a soft spot for me Rykmar. How sweet...did you bring me a gift?"

[6]

Rykmar was actually prepared for this. No one enters Lusts Court without some small gift, lest she take a souvenir from you.

He produces a Void Hibiscus from thin air with a practiced showmans flourish, feeling the pleasant empty chill enter the room. A pretty thing, it's center is a living black hole...crushing all warmth, life and light. Demons appreciate such gifts.

He proffers it, and it is taken. She places it in her hair neatly, where it's powers are subdued-and added to her own, giving her a shadowy, dusky appearance. Yet no less enticing!

"I love this look...Thank you, my dear Rykmar."

Gained: Lusts Favor (now at Neutral)

You've got her attention, that's good. Now to keep it long enough to squeeze a contract from her...

"So, Rykmar...shall we get down to business? Or....pleasure?"

Lust pats the bed invitingly.

[Zako]

I have a feeling that this will end badly...