Swords Crossed: Chapter 1: The Journey of a Thousand Miles ( closed, and started)

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The Funslinger

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Emmett waited until the back chatter died down. "Well, it's time, I suppose, to discuss the precise nature of our business. Fortunately, I've rented a back room, where we will not be overheard." He glanced at Sato. "I trust you can put a man on the door to discourage eavesdroppers?"

He was about to go on when a woman approached him. Turning to her, he replied, "soon. As soon as everything here is complete. We are looking to expand our group a little, but know that while it may be relatively safe travelling with us, getting caught up in... our business would not be wise. Besides that, if you have any valuable skills, I'd like to know them."
 

roushutsu

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Shiori counted her blessings that this man was open to hearing her request. "Yes. My husband, Daichi, is a samurai who was sent to Namako, but it has been weeks now since I've had any correspondence. Any letter I have sent has never been answered. I fear something terrible may have happened to him. As his wife and guardian of his house, I must know of his whereabouts."

She reached into her robe and pulled out the dagger from her sleeves and the iron fan from her obi. Kneeling on the ground before him, she laid out the two weapons. "These are what he has trained me in. I have yet to use them, and it looks like you have plenty of warriors already. Perhaps you need someone to manage everyone's belongings or your budget?"
 

The Funslinger

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Managing their things for them? Managing their budget? Emmett could handle his own money, and he doubted a pack of total strangers were liable to let someone else handle their things, but still. He'd wanted inconspicuous, and this was the first step.

"I suppose we'll find a use for you," he said finally, giving Bashir a look that said he knew exactly the comment that had just occurred to the mercenary. "Now, as I was saying, the backroom. Let us discuss the nature of our journey."
 
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Reiko looked at the drawing in her hands, her eyes widened as she instantly recognised the subject.

"Woooooooooooow, it's Emmett!" She smiled, remembering the man's words, she held it very gently. She turned to show Emmett, but he appeared to be busy. She handed the sketch back, "Can I show him later? You're coming with us aren't you?" She asked.


==========================

"Now, as I was saying, the backroom. Let us discuss the nature of our journey."

Amaya tapped her pipe on the side of the tray provided, emptying the used tobacco. She quickly made sure the pipe was extinguished, before placing it back in her bag. She slowly stood and secured her katana back into her obi, resting her hand on the pommel, she waited for the others to follow Emmett into the back room.
 

NinjaDeathSlap

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"I trust you can put a man on the door to discourage eavesdroppers?"

"Certainly." Sato replied with a smile, and Akira nodded over his shoulder to one of the two guarding the front, who followed as the assembly made its way upstairs.

===========================================================================================================================

"I suppose we'll find a use for you,"

"Only one? I can think of at least four." offered Bashir, grinning. Well, the whitey had just set that one up.

===========================================================================================================================

"Let us discuss the nature of our journey."

"Splendid!" Nathan exclaimed, frankly relieved that the previous tension appeared to have abated without incident. He had been worried for a moment there that the pale, bald native had taken great offence to Nathan for some reason. Not for the first time, Nathan lamented whatever it was about him that seemed to make these warrior types so hostile; and as usual, such lamentations brought fourth memories of home, and his father, leaving a bitter taste in Nathan's mouth. What's more, the scarred, swarthy Arabic fellow seemed to Nathan like the sort of person who's laughs were just as dangerous than his rages, if not more so. Nathan had encountered such breeds of sell-sword once or twice on his travels, when they had taken him to some of the less savoury corners of the world, and they put the fear of God into him! He had learned, however, that showing said fear was the absolute worst thing you could do. Whatever kindness or pity existed in those men when they had started down their path, had long since been bled out of them over a hundred battles, and a thousand sackings, pillages and butcheries not worthy of the name. Fear only angered them, or excited them.

Luckily, this Smythe chap seemed a deal more tractable, although he had a coldness to him too, suggesting that it would take a lot more than words to prove Nathan's worth to him; which was unfortunate, as words were undoubtedly Nathan's strong point.

As the company made its way up the stairs, Nathan couldn't help but share the pale samurai's concerns about this plan. While Nathan knew he would have no place in whatever Shogun Sato's lot would rather be doing, Nathan had never seen such a ragged band of misfits in his life! He put their chances of reaching Namako without losing their heads, either because their purpose was discovered or just because a band of Yakuza fancied a bit of sport, at somewhere in the region of not very much. His course was set however. Namako was where he needed to be before the last of his coin ran out, and he dare not go alone. So, with that in mind, Nathan fell in step beside the flamboyant Italian who had been entertaining Mr. Smythes little girl (although she was certainly not his by birth, Nathan thought it best not to inquire, he'd already made enough of a fool of himself where that girl was concerned).

"Another noble scion of the Arts, I see. Pleased to meet you!" Nathan said, making conversation. As a polite gesture, Nathan spoke in flawless Italian. "My name is Nathan Winters, and yours?"
 

The Funslinger

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Emmett led the others into a cramped backroom, with a small table. Turning to face them, he waited until everyone was in the room and the door was closed. "As you know, we are heading to the city of Namako. I don't doubt that you have heard of the strife there. The city is under siege by several united Yakuza clans, who are recruiting mercenaries to bolster their numbers and assure victory when they assault the city. We, however, are to enter the city and receive orders directly from Shogun Pao. He will require our aid to bring an end to the siege and assure the safety of his people. Once the battle is concluded, he will reward you all handsomely. It will take roughly two weeks to reach the city, and until then we must work together to get by. Barring complications, paying for our expenses will not be an issue. However, I will tolerate no infighting," he glanced pointedly at Bashir when he said this. "No stealing from each other, either. It may be that we take on more travelers on our journey to complete our illusion of mundane purpose, and these same rules will apply to those others as well. Does anybody have any questions?"
 

Green Shoes

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Tao was herded into the backroom with the others. His face was plain and confused; with no idea of what was going on, or even if he had been invited into this meeting, he held his tongue while Emmett spoke. He had heard of trouble in Namako, but had never approached it politically; having never fought in his life, Tao didn't wish to become caught up in matters he was not equipped to deal with.

As Emmett finished speaking, Tao was bursting with questions. Why side with one over the other? What was his role in relation to the Shogun? Why was he recruiting here?

Instead of voicing them, he simply stayed quiet, hoping people either assumed he was meant to be here, or didn't even notice him. His hand clutched his staff tightly, showing the knuckles through the skin. Though nervous, Tao remained calm and still; watching the others for any questions.
 

Ruedyn

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The two stayed in blessed silence. Another woman playing Samurai, it made Akio feel a tinge uncomfortable. He didn't know how useful they'd be in combat. Jules simply made a fun silly faces at the little girl, kids were always better for conversation. They went along with the rest of the group to the backrooms without fuss, and listened to the old man talk about the job. Attacking the Yakuza camps sounded like work right up Akio's alley.

"No stealing from each other, either. It may be that we take on more travelers on our journey to complete our illusion of mundane purpose, and these same rules will apply to those others as well. Does anybody have any questions?"

Jules gave a half-hearted wave of his hand, clearing his throat.

"We ARE getting paid more when you bring in more, er, Bards, right? I can do a bit with my spear, but protecting a circus from a bunch of Yakuza isn't going to be easy." Akio nodded in agreement, he could play a minstrel pretty well but he couldn't truly defend them in that way. Or most any other way, he specialized in offense.

"Perhaps we should think about simply disguising our own troops? It's better than having actual, defenseless men in our ranks." the ninja suggested.
 

NinjaDeathSlap

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Bashir leered at Emmett when he glanced in his direction. Oh, he'd play nice for as long as was required, but in all honesty Bashir preferred a more straight-forward approach to keeping order. If somebody tries to take something that's yours, you but their hands off. If you can't do that, then you didn't deserve to keep whatever they wanted anyway.

"We ARE getting paid more when you bring in more, er, Bards, right? I can do a bit with my spear, but protecting a circus from a bunch of Yakuza isn't going to be easy."

Bashir raised his cup of Sake in agreement. before asking his own question.

"Do you have any names of mercs who've thrown in with the Yakuza?" he rasped. "I've ran with a fair few companies in my time, might be some of them owe me favours."

The inverse was also equally plausible, and even then it would be no easy task getting some of his old 'friends' to turn their cloaks when the odds currently seemed so weighted in their favour. Still, any opportunity was better than none.

===========================================================================================================================

"Have you any further reports from Namako?" Sato asked quietly, after the sell-sword was done speaking. "It what numbers do our enemy encircle the city? How well organised are they? Who has supreme command of their forces?"

All were prudent questions, Akira thought. Many soldiers and commanders alike would be adamant that to starve your enemy into submission through a siege is far better than attempting to assault a fortified city like Namako. However, siege warfare held its own dangers. Bored troops become lazy, particularly the sort of dogs that they faced now; and arrogant commanders fail to maintain discipline. Furthermore, any large force encamped in one place for too long almost always fell victim to disease. If such malignancies were to fall upon the army outside Namako, then even a force of thousands could become vulnerable.
 

roushutsu

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Emilio couldn't contain a wide smile when the little girl got excited over the sketch. Ah, such a fine eye for art at such a young age...

"Woooooooooooow, it's Emmett!" He paused for a moment when she turned to show off the sketch. There he was, sitting among a crowd of warriors. And this little girl knows this man? This had to be divine intervention! "Can I show him later? You're coming with us aren't you?"

"Show...him? Where are you going, little bambina?"

Just then, another gentleman approached. And he spoke Italian. "Another noble scion of the Arts, I see. Pleased to meet you! My name is Nathan Winters, and yours?"

"Meraviglioso! I am Emilio De Luca. Tell me, what is your craft?"

==========================

"I suppose we'll find a use for you," the man said.

Shiori bowed to him. "Thank you very much, sir." She joined the group as they headed towards the back room, then listened intently to his mission. The strife in Namako was worse than she thought, if the Shogun was enlisting his own band of mercenaries to assist the samurai who have already been sent there. But something didn't quite add up. Samurai were always prepared to be sent out wherever they were needed, but not everyone here was trained for combat. Why risk bringing assistance from so far away, especially with bandits prowling the roads?

"Does anybody have any questions?"

Shiori raised her hand. "If I may, why is the Shogun requesting help all the way out here? Is there no assistance he could seek that's closer?"
 

The Funslinger

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"We ARE getting paid more when you bring in more, er, Bards, right? I can do a bit with my spear, but protecting a circus from a bunch of Yakuza isn't going to be easy."

"As I said before, I will cover your food, and perhaps the occasional inn for our journey. Your payment will come directly from the Shogun himself, and so that's for him to work out. Realize I'm merely the middleman in this exchange, but trust me when I say his coffers are doing fairly well. Shogun Pao is nothing if not a diligent spender, but he knows how to reward valor."

"Perhaps we should think about simply disguising our own troops? It's better than having actual, defenseless men in our ranks."

"Disguising ourselves would make us appear defenseless and invite trouble. Not to mention travelling parties at times like this aim to be as large as possible. Strength in numbers. These genuine merchants, artists and the like aid in that. You warriors will not be seen as out of place for protecting a caravan."

"I've ran with a fair few companies in my time, might be some of them owe me favours."

"A few. I'll run through the names with you later." Emmett nodded approvingly. That was why he'd decided to bear with the man, despite his unsavory appearance. "If any sufficiently skilled men do see fit to join us, provided we can ascertain their trust worthiness, that may be easier than you think. Recruiting mercenaries in droves, the Yakuza will be paying an affordable fixed rate. Recruiting smaller numbers and being quite wealthy, the Shogun can afford to be generous." That was as much for any potential dissenters as well as the idea of persuading warriors to turn cloaks.

"It what numbers do our enemy encircle the city? How well organised are they? Who has supreme command of their forces?"

Emmett sipped the beer he'd brought through before answering. "Very good questions. The reason Shogun Pao does not sweep these criminals away where they stand is because the combined Yakuza clans are nearly as large as Pao's standing army, which itself is the largest military force in the Empire. As I suspect you know, Sato, the Nobility, even those of a military persuasion, are not squeaky clean. Aiding forces would not seem to have arrived, and we suspect the Yakuza bribed key officials, perhaps even other Shoguns. And quite frankly, the emperor is... eccentric." He avoided saying completely insane. Who knew how patriotic some of these men might be?

"The Emperor grows wary of Pao's skill at dominating the field, and minds little if he is cut down to size some. More than that, he sees it as a test to see if his finest general is still worthy. As contrary as those two goals seem..."

Mujo spoke up for the first time in a while, but seemed to be speaking to himself. "The Emperor is mad..."

"Opinions, opinions," overrode Emmett. "In any case, the Yakuza's forces are being headed by Tjin Zao, also known as the Red Mist. A street name, for his practice of having those who cross him utterly eviscerated, but it's giving him some intimidation factor in the field."

And that also answered Shiori's question. Producing a tightly folded map from inside one of his endless pockets, Emmett spread it over the table.

"Now, as for our travel. From here, we head north east, to the town of Mimasa. From there, we follow the Jinsei river, and head through the Emerarudo Plains. From there, we reach the coast, where we will take ship, then when we dock, we head south, through various villages, and eventually to Namako itself. It's the route Reiko and I used to get here, and avoids the most war torn and crime infested areas. However, all that will inevitably spread, so I cannot guarantee our safety on the return journey. If that is everything, everyone should see to their belongings, as well as horses if you have them. I must see to my cart. We gather at the North Gate in twenty minutes."
 

NinjaDeathSlap

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"the Yakuza's forces are being headed by Tjin Zao, also known as the Red Mist. A street name, for his practice of having those who cross him utterly eviscerated, but it's giving him some intimidation factor in the field."

'A brutal man,' thought Akira 'but brutality alone does not make a battle commander.'

If they were lucky, the strength of the Yakuza clans would be combined in all but name, with the various bosses almost as busy squabbling with each-other over shares of plunder than they were with keeping Shogun Pao and his men penned up inside Namako. Obviously, this Tjin Zao couldn't be too confident in the capabilities of his allies, or else he would have attempted to storm the city by now. Even if one commander might keep his men alert and disciplined, another one down the line might not, and that could be all it took to shatter the entire host, such was what came of 'armies' that only banded together out of greed. Perhaps, however, that was too much to hope for, or else why would Pao need help? Even outnumbered, a surprise attack on a disorganised and divided foe would often deliver a swift and decisive victory.

Regardless, if the situation was so dire that Pao must call for aid, then Akira wasn't sure how much difference their ragged band could make. So little seemed certain. How many would join them on their journey? How many of them could be trusted? A thousand things might conspire that they might never reach Namako in the first place. Every cautious instinct Akira had developed protecting his lord told him that this was a terrible plan, all in the name of a Shogun and Emperor who had never answered their call of aid. Even so, after so many years, it felt good to be standing for something.
 

Terratina.

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While it was true that the sound of shōgi pieces being moved was a pleasant one, the sight of yet another piece being taken from the komadai and placed on the shōgi-ban was not. Black was intent on dropping every piece White had captured, and that irritated Naisho to no end. First the drunk had insisted on being Black, which had forced Naisho to handicap himself in order to have the first turn so he could take the offensive. At least the game was nearing its end - his opponent's defenses had been shattered; it didn't matter how many pieces were brought back. Nevertheless, Naisho was quickly growing tired of the game, even though it was just something to occupy himself with while he watched the comings and goings. A bore was still a bore though, and the official had just spotted something definitely more interesting...

"Impasse: we draw." Naisho stated the drunk, who nodded and watched Naisho leave.

Naisho took his chance. After all, simply going up to Smythe in that environment, while the mercenaries and the like were crowding around him would not do. Official matters should be settled with a one-on-one conversation, preferably in a nice room with some tea. But, a little chat in the open air would do for the time being. He checked the little bag up his sleeve, everything was there. Regardless, the prospect of shadowing somebody it felt a little shady. The paranoid would probably suspect him of something or order, but Naisho would be happy to show them that he carried only bits of paper and brushes. Then again, would it be wise reveal the fact that you are unarmed to a stranger? With a faint smile, he started to stroll at a leisurely pace, taking in the sights of Lizou.

'Ah. But a strange assignment requires strange actions. Bold ones, even.' Naisho thought, answering his own question.




Name: Naisho
Age: 46
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Asian (Japanese)

Appearance: His chomage haircut conceals the fact that he is going bald, and there are other signs of age such as the lines under his brown eyes, and the grey streak in his hair. However, there are hardly any lines on his forehead but the number of laugh lines is inversely proportional to the number of creases on his forehead - a sign of a carefree life. Naisho has a rather casual demeanor and dresses rather casually as well. He usually wears a yukata of white and blue and leaves it partially open, exposing a bit of his chest. A fox mask (a gift from his daughter.) hangs from his belt. Naisho is a lean and slender man who stands at about 5'8".

Profession: Official

Equipment: Scrolls, brushes and pots of ink, letters, an abacus, seals, etc.

Backstory/personality: His real name is Yuuma Yoshida, and he comes from a long line of officials, more specifically, kura-bugyo. Their job consisted of supervising cereal storehouses and accounting for rice received in payment of imposed taxes, plain and simple. Since the Yoshida family lived in the countryside, surrounded by wet fields and rice paddies, the job mainly consisted of collecting rice and having it transported to Edo. It was an easy life, just moving numbers about, and it brought contentment to Yuuma who soon found himself married with a daughter and living the life of a family man. However, things changed.

With the rise of bandit activity, and of the Yakuza, suddenly Japan became a more dangerous place. Additional guards had to escort the rice and with that, taxes rose in order to overcome the cost of said guards. Frankly, it was a headache to manage. First the farmers complain about the rise in taxes, then the guards complain about their pay... But Yuuma acted calm and explained what he could to the disgruntled parties. They seemed satisfied with his answers and that headache when anyway for a while. Then Ryzaki decided to attack the Yakuza and prove his integrity.

Yuuma was contacted by an agent of the shogunate, one who wasn?t in a hurry to tell Yuuma his name, or who exactly he served - probably a daimyo. According to the agent, because of his personable and calm demeanor - not to mention the decades of service the Yoshida family has given and Yuuma?s dedicated to his work - that he has been given a very important post, one equivalent to that of a secret policeman. Yuuma has been given the task of detecting corruption and the like among the populace, but more specifically, he has been given the task of observing the European known as Emmett Smythe and his ragtag group.

The official is a carefree man who has an aura of easy confidence around him. He only cares about three things: his family, his work and information. Yuuma dislikes telling people more than they should know, hence his pseudonym - it literally means ?it?s a secret?. He?s just an official and that?s all people needed to know. Nevertheless, he is very polite and often makes use of honeyed words. After all, he does have experience of playing the humble, gracious and humble civil servant. However, Yuuma distrusts foreigners as he sees mosts of them as brash things who interfere without prior knowledge of Japan?s ways.
 

The Funslinger

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When it became apparent everyone had asked all they intended to, Emmett made his goodbyes, and, taking Reiko by the hand, left the backroom and headed towards the stables. As he passed through the common room, he thought a man with a chomage haircut gazed at him a little too long, but kept going. If the man did follow him, he'd find out soon enough. He let go of Reiko's hand and brought a knife down from inside a sleeve so that it was still hidden, the tip balanced on the heel of his hand and disguised the movement by timing it with his opening of the door to the streets outside.

With Reiko on his heels, he turned towards the stables by the inn, whistling one of the many flute songs he knew. Even by whistling, it had good sound with fluttering, complex rhythms. A couple of people even smiled appreciatively as he passed them by; the street outside the inn was quiet enough for the sound to carry.

============================================

Mujo watched the others leave, then turned towards those it appeared he would travel with. Giving them a slight bow, he said, "I believe I shall walk straight to the North Gate, as I have everything I own right here. Will anyone accompany me?"
 

NinjaDeathSlap

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"I believe I shall walk straight to the North Gate, as I have everything I own right here. Will anyone accompany me?"

"Our possessions are at the East Gate." Akira told the man, a little stiffly. "No doubt we will find you again on the road."

Even if they had been going the same way naturally, Akira still wouldn't have been comfortable allowing a stranger (and such a well-armed one at that) near Sato. The the others in this party had proven their mettle, he might permit them to come within arm's reach of his lord, if he deemed it wise, not before.

As he and Sato made their way downstairs, the rest of the men Akira had taken with him to the Inn melted in around them. They had served together for so long now, that often not even the most subtle of hand gestures were necessary to convey orders. Protecting Sato came to them all as naturally as breathing.

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"I believe I shall walk straight to the North Gate, as I have everything I own right here. Will anyone accompany me?"

"Ah, what the hell." Bashir responded, clapping the guy on the back after the Shogun and his guard dog had left. "It's as good a direction as any." Perhaps Bashir would be able to steal a decent horse their, as he currently had none of his own, having lost his last one in an ill-placed bet on a night 3 weeks ago... or had it been the one 4 weeks ago?

The Jap looked like he could handle himself at least. The quiet, reserved type. Could mean he was dangerous, or it could just mean their wasn't much going on with him. Bashir guessed that he'd have to find out. In any case, the man might come in handy if any more Yakuza showed up, chasing their poxxy coin.

=========================================================================================================================

Nathan had listened intently through the meeting, in silence. He'd said his piece downstairs, and any questions he had were certainly not of a tactical nature. He might have his own areas of expertise, but Nathan was no strategist. When the rest started to depart, Nathan gathered his things and approached the Italian painter again, havilng felt slightly guilty at their beginnings of a conversation having been cut short earlier, the man had also been the least threatening person Nathan had met all day, which was also a plus.

"Shall we depart?" he asked politely. "I have no belongings other than what's in here," he patted his briefcase "so if you need to alight anywhere else to collect your possessions then I will gladly accompany you."
 
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Amaya disregarded the offers of companionship and made her way out of the inn. She proceeded to the North gate, walking at a leisurely pace. She presumed it would be an hour or two until they were ready to leave.

Amaya reached the square that was home to the Northern exit, a number of stalls were dotted around the area, selling various wares. The smell of cooking food filled her nostrils. She sighed and conceded that her stomach was less disciplined than herself. She sat on a stool of a ramen stand.

"What can I get you, young miss?", the elderly looking stall vendor asked. Amaya smiled "Save your honeyed words old man. I'll have a beef ramen please, light on the peppers." Amaya wasn't a huge fan of spicy food, but just enough heat was something she found agreeable. "Young by my standards, miss." The vendor smiled, as he began to prepare the dish.

No words were said as Amaya glanced around the market. Nobody from the inn had arrived yet, but she'd keep an eye out. She was curious as to who would take Smythe up on his offer.
 

The Funslinger

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"It's as good a direction as any."

Mujo had to keep himself from tensing as the man's hands brushed the shirasaya on his back. When he got outside, he paused a moment to get his bearings and then turned down the northwards street. Twenty minutes, Emmett had said. He hoped the others in the group had taken that in. He was eager to be off. Glancing at Bashir, he said, "I wonder how many of them actually have horses. I don't, and I doubt I'm the only one. Still, I've no idea if a lot of horses would make us a more intimidating target for bandits, or a more tempting one."
 

Terratina.

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The shrill notes hung in the air, all the official had to do was follow the trail. Naisho silently thanked the gentleman for both making his job a lot easier and for the music. Though, the melody didn't sound like anything he knew. Naisho simply assumed that it was a European piece. He would have preferred something Japanese, of course. But, at least it wasn't another song about cherry blossoms; the official had his fill of those. Little Yua made sure of that. Regardless, Naisho followed the trail of song, and in turn, Mr. Smythe and his little companion. That was the easy part, nothing as simple as walking. Just one step in front of the other: left, right, left, right, hidari, migi, hidari, migi... Then again, Naisho had spent most of his life dealing with people. Even the difficult kind.

He changed his lax pace to a steady stroll. Though, the man wasn't particularly in a hurry. It was just enough to catch up to Mr.Emmett Smythe and the little girl who was whistling. And there Naisho was, standing next the man himself. The official gave a polite bow - both to the gentlemen and to the girl - and stated his business, "Excuse me and good day to you both; I am an official in need of an escort to Namako, with it being besieged and all and with how dangerous the roads are these days. I have have you have recruited some individuals of a martial nature and are travelling to Namako." Naisho then bowed again and clasped his hands together, "I sincerely request permission to travel with you and in return, I can provide you with my services."
 

Green Shoes

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Tao watched as the quiet warrior and the loud Arab left, shrugging and deciding to follow. Never one to shy from adventure, he stomached the unease he felt. Still, the leader has spoken of requiring non-combatants to complete the disguise, and Tao certainly did not look like a fighter. Does that make me an easy target? Would I even be protected? Again, pushing the thoughts aside, he caught up with the two as they headed north, overhearing talk of stables. His staff clacked as he tried their attention from behind.

"I certainly don't own a horse, but am happy to walk. I have walked many miles. Where do you two travel from?"

The others had begun to talk freely in the backroom, and Tao hoped to make at least acquaintances, lest he be a non-entity. The Arab particularly interested him; never had he met someone with such reckless abandon.
 
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Reiko skipped on Emmett's heel, trying to whistle herself, but failing miserably. She had been practising, but she couldn't so much as make a sound. She pouted.

"Excuse me and good day to you both; I am an official in need of an escort to Namako, with it being besieged and all and with how dangerous the roads are these days. I have have you have recruited some individuals of a martial nature and are travelling to Namako. I sincerely request permission to travel with you and in return, I can provide you with my services."

Reiko looked at the stranger. He had a friendly face. As he bowed, Reiko stood behind Emmett's leg, grasping it slightly. She bowed her head slightly in response, looking up at Emmett.