Zashuan

Sensing an opportunity, Santokumaru bows once more to Sdroodl, and tries to adjust his register this time. "Er... Mohnskeeng Sdroodl very, very cool. Beeg stronk. Much stronker than hoomans. Hooman give Sdroodl many thanks, for listening. Hoomans talk with Akimbold now, so please enjoy your, uh, Royal Bakey Time." Before Akimbold's irate trembling can boil over, Santokumaru takes him aside with the rest of the party into one of the corridors from before. He speaks to Akimbold in quieter tones than before, as one of Sdroodl's garish portraits looks on. "Forgive me if I speak too plainly, Sir Akimbold, but it would seem your Munchking has decided to submit to the dragon, and plans to position the kobolds of Burokori accordingly. Like you, I find this distasteful; from what I have seen of Haxenspargilis, I can only imagine the reign of terror he would inflict on your clan. Only by standing together, can the realms of this land fend off this threat. The kobolds need a leader that they respect, admire, and trust, one that would stand up to the dragon's intimidation. Is there any chance that you might be that leader?" "In Honyaki, when an elder challenges another for leadership, we abide neither trickery no bloodshed. Instead, we put it to a contest of skill, in the culinary arts. If you were to challenge your Munchking, know that I would stand beside you."

As Akimbold leads the party through what might be called the Munchking's "castle," Santokumaru can't help but be impressed by the craftsmanship, even with the shoddy aesthetic. He wonders to himself if Sdroodl would enjoy a poem that dramatizes his bravery, but then he sees the portraits and the sculptures, and thinks that Sdroodl seems like more of a "visual arts" kind of person. Santokumaru listens as Akimbold and Sdroodl bicker back and forth. Sdroodl's mention of a gift for Haxenspargilis is surprising, especially when Akimbold was so spiteful of that very same notion, just minutes before. Based on Akimbold's reaction, however, it's clear that this turn of events is news to the kobold captain as well. "Pardon our intrusion, O Wise and Wondrous Munchking, in all your Magnanimous... Munchiness," Santokumaru says with a bow, hoping that's enough honorifics to keep the king's fragile attention. "Has Haxenspargilis asked you for a gift? We were under the impression that he was an aggressor to your fair kingdom, not an ally. What advantage do you hope to gain with this gift, O Cunning and Clever Munchking, Emperor of Burokori and All Who Dwell Here."

Santokumaru listens to Akimbold attentively. He's not often the most astute observer of others' emotions, but Akimbold's weary sort of displeasure at the mention of the Munchking's newfound "tradition" and "Royal Bakey Time" signals a cut between the captain and the Munchking's ambitions. Like a small crack in a coconut waiting to be carved, Santokumaru thought he saw an opening. "Forgive me if I speak too plainly, Sir Akimbold," Santokumaru says, with the utmost respect, as usual. "It would seem that while you and your Krew fight valiantly to protect this Munchking Sdroodl -- no one would dare contest your bravery, nor your skill -- perhaps the Munchking's decree has caused you no small measure of difficulty." "If there is something I can do to aid your plight, do not hesitate to speak." Santokumaru unbuckles his knife block (softly; it doesn't come off as violent), swings it around in front of him, and holds it to his chest, like a salute. "After witnessing your prowess, I know we are Sworn Brothers of Silverware. Speak your mind, and perhaps we might help each other in our endeavors."

The flames on Gyuuto flicker and finally sputter out, as Santokumaru resheathes his blades in the enormous knife block buckled to his back. He mutters a few words of gratitude under his breath to the spirits of Honyaki, thanking them that this match was cut short before anyone could be truly injured. "I am Santokumaru, swordsman of Honyaki. My companions and I travel in spite of the terrible dragon, not to abet his wickedness, but to save the hostage he has taken." Santokumaru bows before Akimbold, as a sign of respect. "Your skill is fearsome, and were it not for the severing of your ropes, you may very well have been the victor. Please, tell us of your Munchking, and why they need protection. Perhaps our goals can intersect, rather than cut in twain."

"There is no greater honor than fighting to protect," Santokumaru says, spinning away from Akimbold's barrage of spoon strikes. "If this Munchking is truly in need of aid, we may able to help." "But first, we must insist that you stand down." Suddenly, a vial of oil appears in Santokumaru's hand, the glass shaped like a dragon with a cork stuck in the dragon's mouth. "No serious harm will come to your companions or your slime." With a small flick, he pitches the oil high up into the air. The flames on Gyuuto's steel flicker to life once more, as Santokumaru's eyes lock onto the vial plummeting back down. "After this, may we speak as friends." With a slice, he halves the vial in two, and there is sound like a dragon's roar as the oil violently combusts into the air. OOC Initiative Slot 1: Spending 2 IP to create an Elemental Shard (Fire) for 10 fire damage, targeting Akimbold.

Counterattack vs. Akimbold (spoon attack on Eleanora, during Serving 4)

Counterattack vs. Akimbold

As Santokumaru trades more clanging blows with Akimbold, he ponders the weight in the wily kobold's comments. Though they gather the ingredients to be rid of Haxenspargilis, he can see how one might argue that makes them the dragon's attendants, in a cause-and-effect way. "We are no servants of the dragon," Santokumaru responds, as he catches his foe's spoon between two blades at once, like pincers. "We are bound by circumstance, to save an innocent life. Perhaps your goals and ours are not as opposed as we once thought." With a powerful swing, he bats Akimbold's spoon aside. A whirlwind of cuts and slashes whips around Santokumaru as he advances, but Akimbold's spoonwork is just as fast, parrying with lightning speed. Gyuuto bursts into flame, and Santokumaru spins it in his hand. "But if you will not be convinced by words, we have less subtle methods of diplomacy."

"Dragon's servants?" Santokumaru asks, as he comes face-to-face with Akimbold while defending Tourna against the flurry of spoon strikes. "A dragon is our foe, not our master. How did you come to know of this?" While he lunges with a frenzy of fiery slashes -- Akimbold's defenses seem a bit like burned udon, at the moment -- Santokumaru reflects that the kobolds are surprisingly well-informed. He wonders if there is more to this melange than meets the knife.

Counterattack vs. Captain Akimbold!

As Santokumaru trades a blizzard of clanging blows with Akimbold, he notices the Ramenooze inhaling a great quantity of air, as though in preparation for some terrible breath. Just before the Ramenooze lets loose, Santokumaru appears to vanish from his duel entirely, in a shimmer of motion. There is a sound of rushing air and roaring flame, as the Ramenooze spews a plume of fire that washes over Vesper. When the flames subside, Santokumaru stands in front of Vesper, his blades spinning like the propellers of an airship, their metal superheated to a red-orange glow. The spinning stops, and a soot-covered Santokumaru stumbles, slightly; his strength is beginning to falter. He spits out some ash-choked saliva on the ground, and locks eyes with Akimbold once more. His lips curl into a subtle smile. "I finally remember what dish your ropes remind me of, false dragon," Santokumaru says, defiantly. "In Honyaki, we have a noodle dish where the noodles are made from barley, and are cut in a very particular way." He seizes Gyuuto, and its magical flames spring to life once more. "You do not know of it? Here, I will show you." As Santokumaru raises his fiery blade to strike, he disappears again, his image flickering for just a moment before vanishing completely. Suddenly, one of the ropes above snaps with a hissing noise, its end scorched as it twists and lashes around from the abrupt change in tension. Another rope does the same thing, then another. Before long, almost all of the ropes are cut, with the exception of one larger rope that strains and whines in its newfound solitude. Santokumaru reappears on the bowlship, and with a flourish, reverses his grip on Gyuuto as he speaks: ~ A dream of ramen. Noodles carved from sheets? No, they Are carved from intent. ~ He sheathes Gyuuto back in the knife block with a loud clack, as he bellows "Burning Talons of the Divine Dragon!!" A frenzy of whirling, burning slashes slithers down the length of the final rope, and for a second, they almost resemble a coiling dragon. But the effect is over in an instant as the rope is shredded into twine.

Santokumaru quickly surveys the situation. The kobold pack was dangerous, but not quite as dangerous as the wily Captain or the Ramenooze. What was that spoon technique he just used? Santokumaru wondered, as he tapped his knife block in thought. Cutting the ropes supporting many of the kobolds was certainly priority one, though protecting their bowlship was also important. How could he hope to make the optimal move when there were so many factors, so many variables to consider? He shakes his head briskly, like dispelling a bad dream. Do what you have always done, he thinks to himself. See the food before you. Make the cut. At once, the ropes begin to look like ramen noodles in his mind's eye, and they are far too long for cooking. With a flourish, he draws one of his father's legendary carving katanas: Gyuuto, marked with demonic bulls snorting fire and smoke. He raps his knuckle against the tempered steel, and feels his soul crackle with passion and heat. At once, the flames marking the metal spring to life, shrouding the blade in a plume of swirling fire. Santokumaru becomes a blur of red-orange slashes for a moment, then re-sheathes the blade with a metallic clack. On cue, several of the ropes are suddenly sliced in two, their burnt ends fraying into cinders. "Little surprise, that a ramen captain wields a ladle. Come, then." In a burst of imperceptible speed, he lunges at Captain Akimbold, Gyuuto spinning like a fiery propeller in his hand. "Let us pit knife against spoon."

Though Santokumaru's blades were missing their mark, he couldn't help but smile as he dispelled part of the kobold's magical gas by spinning his blades like propellers. Inevitably, some of the gas got through anyway, but Santokumaru didn't mind. To protect a friend was to cut their sorrow. With a spinning step, he trained three of his blades at once on the more warlike kobold.

Counterattack vs. Kobold Warrior Protecting Vesper from Bad Breath, Santokumaru takes 16 poison damage

Santokumaru notices the staff-holding kobold tower spiral dangerously close to Vesper. In an instant, he reaches into the folds of his yukata, pulls out a famous Honyaki onion, and tosses it into the air. " ~ From a heart of soil, its miasma burns like flame, even dragons might weep. ~ " As it falls, there is a cacophony of metallic unsheathing and slicing noises while Santokumaru cuts the onion into a fine spray with all of his blades at once, directed at the column of kobolds. "Tears of the Dragon!"

Group Initiative (DEX + INS)

Santokumaru's eyes narrow at the mention of the "evil shiny curse-fire-zappy curse." While the exact nature of this spell was somewhat indecipherable, a threat was a threat. He looks to his newfound allies, who nod in silent assent. And then there's Tourna, who burbles something that he assumes is assent. "A battle, then," Santokumaru says, lowering in his stance. "May my blades cut through your ill intent."

As Eleanora keeps the creatures horrifyingly spellbound with her litany of creative curses (with Tourna's help!), Santokumaru gets the chance to talk to Vesper for a brief moment. Before Santokumaru can apologize for not having heard of these bizarre spirits, the gentleman butler puts Santokumaru's consternation to rest; he's convinced that these aren't actually demons at all. Upon closer examination, their poorly sized outfits do look awfully suspect, not to mention their forms beneath the clothes have a distinctly... three-sectional geometry. Perhaps unnecessary conflict can be avoided and Eleanora's magical energy might be conserved, if only their true natures were revealed. Santokumaru takes a deep breath, as his left foot shifts slightly in the forest dirt. He focuses his thoughts and his intention on the hats of the two remaining creatures, imagining them as stems to be cut away from the tops of tomatoes. As a forest breeze rustles the leaves above the path, Santokumaru becomes a blur as he moves with the wind. In a burst of imperceptibly quick motion, he returns to his original point on the path, and looks down at his hands. He is holding a pair of twigs, taken from the branches of a nearby tree. Well this looks awfully foolish, Santokumaru thinks to himself. How he could have miscalculated such a simple movement, he wonders. Then it occurs to him -- this is not a forest of tomatoes, but apples. Coring an apple and slicing a stem from a tomato are two entirely different moods, methods, maneuvers, mentalities. He makes a second move, this time with a poem in his mind. ~ A red coat, a hat Of wood, and stones in pocket. Apples dress for war. ~

As the party gets more time to talk at The Wrong Cabbage, Santokumaru finds himself enjoying others' company for once. Vesper tells stories of the Elysium Academy with gentlemanly flair, Eleanora explains some of the philosophy behind her magic -- Santokumaru didn't know vegetables even had spirits -- and Tourna whirs and chirps along with the conversation whenever appropriate. Santokumaru had always thought of his banishment from Honyaki as a dreaded weight to carry, but as the meal winds down, he starts to wonder if making friends from around the realm isn't such a terrible fate after all. The journey north is uneventful, and Santokumaru stays relatively quiet most of the way, occasionally jotting down a quick poem of a terrain feature or a landmark that inspires a new way of cutting. When they reach the forest's edge, he unbuckles the enormous knife block on his back and refastens it at his waist, so it looks more like a traditional warrior's scabbard. As they say in Honyaki, "The time it takes to hold one's knife, can measure the end of a slow man's life." It isn't long before they encounter the guardian demons, wavering and shimmering in place. With a hand poised just above his blades, he thinks back to Honyaki's folklore of spirits and shadow things. Was there something in there about guardian demons...? No rhymes or cryptic warnings come to him. Perhaps this was a creature unrecorded in Honyaki's region of the realm.

After the briefing, Santokumaru graciously thanks everyone for their help and information. Based on the available intelligence, the party decides that Burokori Forest makes for a sensible first stop, but before they go off to gather supplies, Santokumaru talks with the staff a little bit about the subtleties of cutting bread. He notices that they hold the bread in such a way while slicing it, that they neither wrinkle nor crush the bread as they move. He feels the stirrings of a new technique there, but it'll require some more pondering and practice before it coalesces into anything tangible. While they walk to the nearest inn, Santokumaru addresses the group as a whole. "Before we journey together, there is something you all must know," he says, grimly. "I would do none of you wrong, but I am a dishonored man, for spilling blood in a duel that was meant to be an exhibition. This, and my desire to master my father's style, are the truths behind my wanderings. If this gives you reason to doubt my integrity, I shall not blame you." "As I have unsheathed my past, might I ask the rest of you: why is it you answered the call for heroes?" He bows, as if asking this question is a terrible weight. "Also, forgive my ignorance." Santokumaru turns to Tourna, and bows. "Everyone in this city seems to already know our mechanical friend. Is it... a marionette, of some sort? Honyaki lacks such wonders."

After some befuddling reads on the employees of the Granary, Santokumaru listens to the spectral tomato's story with a quiet attention. He finds the tomato's manner of speaking elliptical, at times -- what is the meaning of the 'crib' metaphor? -- but he can't deny that the tomato has a tangible passion for life. Or, unlife. Whatever one might call the state that Eleanora's magic induces. The tomato's less-than-subtle attempts to call attention to the trainee's boots spells out their culprit, but Santokumaru realizes that with his faulty logic from before, there's a half-convincing story about the kobolds doctoring the crime scene to make it look like an attendant was involved. "While certain details have been, er, made clear by Eleanora's powerful magics, we must not forget that kobolds are master infiltrators and renowned for their cunning. There may be truths... yet to be revealed," he says, with perhaps less than the utmost conviction. "A question remains: with these ingredients missing, how do you replenish your stores? Is there a supplier? How might we remedy these mishaps, and mishappenings?"

Santokumaru listens along with Vesper's appraisal of the situation, moving things as directed and using his knives as impromptu forensic markers, indicating where a kobold may have entered from or where Cobalt Heirlooms may have sizzled away. The more he spends time with his newfound teammates, the more he is in awe of their intellect and abilities. Eleanora's powerful magic, Vesper's unshakable will, and how Tourna appeared to be some kind of robot from an ancient civilization? He was surprised that more people didn't seem amazed by Tourna's existence, but this is what all big cities are like, he thinks to himself. As the rest of the team talks with Tom, Cherry, Mace, and other assorted Granary attendants, Santokumaru sits by the sidelines and watches, trying to read emotions and gauge reactions. Like a cutter of fruit parting the rind from the fruit itself, so too would Santokumaru have to separate the peel from the truth. ...but since he doesn't have any prior experience with any of these people, it's hard to distinguish strangeness in their demeanor from their normal, everyday selves. Is Cherry that nervous all the time? Was Tom's hair always that red? How trustworthy were the guards working under Mace? Santokumaru quickly finds himself awash in a sea of details, unsure which are important and which are chaff to be trimmed away.

Santokumaru bows to the king and thanks him profusely for his assistance, even though the king seems largely preoccupied with the bustle of the current emergency. As Anise recounts the missing ingredients, Santokumaru listens and nods attentively. He appears neither concerned nor alarmed; perhaps it is his unwavering sense of calm, or perhaps he simply views the ever-complicating list of tasks like a bony fish, that need only be cut in the proper method and order to yield the desired filet. Knowing Santokumaru, it's probably the second one. After brief introductions are made with the named attendants of the Granary, Santokumaru turns to his newfound friend, Vesper, and bows. "Forgive me if I speak too boldly, Sir Vesper, but I could not help but notice on the roof that you have an eye for detail, which cuts away all unnecessary information. If it is not too much to ask, I would implore you to turn that unerring eye to the places where these precious ingredients once sat. You may see clues where I would see only emptiness." "While my own ability to see such truths is but an echo of yours, I will aid as you direct me. Together, may we slice away this mystery, and leave naught but the truth."

As soon as the table comes to a full halt, Santokumaru lifts his carving blades from the courtyard, and with lightning-quick spins, re-sheathes them into the massive knife block buckled to his back. After helping the king and the others to their feet, he assists in freeing Tourna from the rooted snarl with some fast cuts, creating a woody sound like chopping ginger. He then investigates the slashes hewn into the cobblestone, and jots down a quick sketch of them into his journal, along with a poem: ~ At times, your road will Be uncertain. Do not lose Hope. Cut a new path. ~ He bows once with his eyes shut, as if in contemplation, then turns back to the king. "Your Highness, I am not from this region, so I know neither the creatures nor the legends. Is Haxenspargilis a threat known to the people of Entrée? If so, I beseech you to share what you might know, about both him and this stew he asks for, so that we might sharpen our plan with precision."

Without hesitating an instant, Santokumaru runs his index finger along the roof tiles as they splinter and crack by way of the careening table. He rubs the powder between his fingertips, contemplating something. "Like... coconut shell. And... cashews," he mutters, to no one in particular. With a flick of his wrists, a pair of carving katanas suddenly appear in either hand, clasped between his fingers like assassins' claws. In a blur of motion, Santokumaru whirls to the front of the table, and kneels down so he can plant his blades in the roof as they continue to slide. A stream of stone dust, ceramic shards, and red-orange sparks flows from each blade, while Santokumaru tries his best to maneuver them away from the rooftop's edge, amidst the terrible commotion of metal grinding furiously against stone. Roll