Scene #5758: Bracken Racket

Owner	Pose
Bloody Revelations	This far east, it's easily spring already, with the last of the snow having melted into a shallow dampness in the soil, and the grass already returning in force. The leaves have most of their trees back, and some fast-growing creepers and flowers are using their breed's head start strategy to climb and open up before there is much in the way of competition. The day is grey and dreary, likely having been drizzling on and off since morning, going by the beads of water on everything. Rolling hills, groves of trees, and the odd field of flowering bushes, make it not entirely dissimilar from a familiar European countryside, with large tracts of it having been cleared and repurposed into farmland for small communities. For the most part. The place is distant from the city of Thorns, but not far enough to be comfortable. The far horizon to the west is darkened by a blot of permanent black clouds, and the semi-material shadow of something towering far higher than any forest or castle possibly could be, and a chill, stagnant wind seems to constantly blow from that direction; sometimes strongly, other times faintly, but ever present. Across the meadows and fields, here and there crop up huge splotchy patches in the land where the grass turns grey and brittle, the soil turns to dry dust, where trees blacken and become bare, and where strange mushrooms grow in place of flowers. Walking through those areas seems to dim the sun, darken the sky, and chill the air whilst within them, giving rise to an uncanny tingle and sensation of being watched. They plague the landscape, cropping up like blotches of ink soaking through the underside of a sheet of paper. They clearly can't be longstanding natural phenomena either, because many of them partially or wholly encompass family farms and homesteads across the area, easily accessible just by walking down any dirt path or road or freely and unimpeded through the meadows. If they were old, people wouldn't have built on top of them, because going by those unfortunate enough to now live inside these zones, anyone can see their stunted and anemic crops, and the sickly cast of their malnourished-seeming riding animals. According to what little had been heard, this area has apparently been the site of a ludicrous outbreak of disease in the past decade --not in the form of a devastating plague, but rather ridiculous for the insanely high rate of an otherwise incredibly rare, degenerative illness that's supposed to happen at birth, not spread throughout communities. Though descriptively similar to what Earth natives would probably think of progeria, the rate is something close to half the entire population. There is of course concern that some agent of the Mask of Winters is using this countryside and its loosely scattered community as a testbed for some new weapon or magic, but that said, from even a fairly exhaustive stroll around, there don't seem to be any signs of activity save the horse tracks of residents in the dirt, never mind anything technological or necromantic. In fact, it seems like a good deal of the homes are completely vacant, like the residents have all gone off to some communal gathering somewhere, though there is little cause to celebrate these days.
Asellus	Sidestory Guest Characters - Asellus, and White Rose The countryside vaguely resembles Shrike at first glance, though obviously missing the modern homes and businesses. Even in that Region, however, there is care taken to keep a degree of foliage around, and to not try to eradicate all of nature. There is a certain synergy between technology and the natural world there. So seeing this alien countryside, even with only superficial similarities to her home Region, withering and dying in such a way, visibly upsets Asellus. The areas of shadows and chill in the air likewise upset her for their similarities to Facinaturu. That blasted spire in the distance even gives her a foreboding sense like Chateau Aiguille. A structure or plant to tall for this world, cloaked in a realm of darkness and eternal night. White Rose moves along with Asellus, her spring-hued blue and yellow poofy dress with a poofy skirt of white roses and a yellow-trimmed flower bonnette of the same contrasting the red and violets of Asellus's strange combination of longcoat, dress, and short shorts, like someone couldn't figure out if the wearer was going to be male or female when designing it. Asellus's emerald hair takes on a paler hue every time they walk through a shadowland, and her green eyes take on a slightly more... Purple hue. But while Princess White Rose remains placid and calm, keeping a cautious but amenable disposition during their exploration, the Charm 'Prince' gets angrier as she sees the devastation wrought upon this community. "What happened here? Who did this? There's no way they built here when it was like this!" she protests as they come to yet another farm with no people in it, just sickly animals and withering crops. "I know not, Lady Asellus. But perhaps we should consider leaving here. We do not know what might come of exposure." White Rose responds. Asellus doesn't even have to think about her answer. "There might be people in trouble. I'm going to find them first." "I understand. But where would we even start looking?" "...Maybe there's a place where people gather. A town hall or something. Let's look for that."
Ryu	Disease of this caliber would confound Ryu... which is why he would gravitate to this region of Creation. The dragon has been going from place to place in his human form, seeking out human activity and pausing now and then to providing healing energy to a plant or animal that found itself struck by the local pox. But now and then he finds an area that is a lot bigger than before, and so he decides to pause at a farm with a large area of blighted crops. He steps into the center of the blighted area and kneels. He pulls a vial out of a medicine bag at his side, and pours a glowing oil on his hands. He rubs the potion into his skin until his hands begin to glow bright gold, and he pushes his hands into the dirt. He tries to remove the curse from the dirt. Golden light flows out like veins, as if seeking out the curse to remove it from the land. But if it doesn't function like a curse, this effect won't mean anything. It's largely a test, to see if it'll work at all. Then he wipes his hands clean with a similarly glowing cloth, standing up to start walking away from that spot in search for where all the locals went. His nose twitches as he follows the path of recent activity, using his sense of smell as an effective tracking tool.
Azure Armature	The suspicion of one of the Mask of Winters' goons (or worse, one of his lieutenants, loose in the land to support causes from afar) had drawn the eye of Azure Armature, who had been interested in gathering further intelligence after the revolutionary attacks at the city of Thorns itself. Closing the net - and making sure that no necrotech laboratory lingered out in the field, siphoning power from death like a charnel dynamo and putting it towards the Mask's ends - was top priority for the blue-haired operative. Initial observation had produced little in the way of satisfying results, merely empty houses and missing people. A disease, but the issues of the people weren't her specialty. A frustrating series of data-points without any linking factors. Without dedicated tools, especially for seismology, she couldn't locate an underground base simply - it would come down to extended observation and magical triangulation. If there was anything. This level of disrepair disgusted her, though, as she drew her scarf up around her mouth to ward away the smells - and the dusty, bone-dry air. "The local leadership may have answers, yes." 'Blue' agrees with the pair of vampires brusquely, arms crossed under her poncho. "This area looks abandoned and useless."
Wandering Dog	The stories of the rare disease spreading when it isn't even supposed to be contagious had reached the ears of the Wandering Dog. The adventurer had gone towards the Scavenger Lands to learn if a village was still standing, and once he had, decided to see what could use an adventurer. The fears of a weapon of the Mask of Winters were enough to set Wandering Dog travelling to the village with several of his lackeys. The old martial artist had about five guys with him, one in a rather nice fur coat you wouldn't normally see on a thug, this one closest to him, and then the five others dressed in casual and cheap clothing. Wandering Dog himself was dressed in his special silk tunic, unarmed besides a bracer on his arm with a figure of a hawk atop it. The group stuck together instead of spreading out their numbers as they searched, with the man in fur seeming to be the second in command of the gang. After a while of searching for any clues and avoiding the Shadowland, the martial artist tried to find a villager who was around, his group backing him up to make him look tough. His stance wasn't hostile, and his voice was attempting to be friendly, his body relaxed. If he finds anyone, he'd speak up to them, ask them where everyone went, but alternatively move to join his band of misfits with the other Elites. "You all here to see what this disease is about? Name's Wandering Dog, Creation's greatest martial artist. You've probably heard of me. This is Mamo, and these are my friends." He jerks a thumb to the one in fur when he introduces one by name, and then proceeds to wave over to the rest, not specifically introducing them. "Let us know how we can help, yeah?"
Graceful Hands	Seemingly part of the general environs and townspeople, there walked a woman clad in a violet tunic with gold trim through this particularly afflicted area of creation. In spite of the striking colors of her outfit, this woman seemed to shift notice away from her, something that ironically may in fact be noticable to anyone who was concerned about such things. However it seemed that the effect was lost on most people, even as she strolled around casually. Still, anyone that cared to consider the person who stood out by not standing out would see that she was talking with what little population still remained in the countryside, ending her conversations with a polite bow and occasionally handing over a small cloth bag tied up with a string. The woman in violet was systematically walking from door to door, exchanging quiet words with whoever was inside before doing her routine of handing over one of her little bags. Annoyingly, the hushed nature of the conversation would make any casual dropping of eaves somewhat tough, but if anyone had the serendipity to have an encounter with this individual, unless directly addressed, she would simply press on.
Lin	The Concord intelligence network's picked up wind of a few odd goings on way out in the East of this Creation, just enough to provide coordinates to one of their Exalted members. Lin did take note of how strange it was that this wasn't the Creation she hails from, but... gotta earn her pay, and maybe learn more about her new and strange heritage! And so she plows through the trees, leaping from raised raised root. She dashes through the meadows like a bolt of daylight, a spray of dead lives and assorted natural debris sucked into her wake. Zoom! Past the dry, tainted ground and some dead trees... And she skids to a halt, not even panting, at the edge of the disease-ridden village... "Shadowlands." Lin has already concluded. They're everywhere here, and that's worrisome. "Too many shadowlands." From here on out, she takes a deep breath to quell her surging spirit, ties an ordinary blade to her belt, and strolls in like an ordinary traveler to see just what's going on in these parts! Of course, this means she's swift to take notice of the person who's clearly Not From Around Here also sweeping through: Wandering Dog and his companions. And sharp ears pick up what he says, despite being three times what normal hearing range is. She grins. Martial artist, huh? So Lin strolls up, still grinning like an enthusiastic maniac. "Wandering Dog! The name's Lin. I'd love to challenge anyone who can claim such... but something awful's happening here..." She glances left, and right, all troubled. Oh hey there's other weird folks about she doesn't recognize, too!
Bloody Revelations	Ryu is fairly fortunate that he picks a farmstead where nobody is around to object to him wandering out into the middle of the wheat fields. Stopping here and there to heal the odd flower, tree, or domestic horse or dog, the effort seems to work perfectly well. Exactly as he would expect, his magic restores life and colour to the stunted and faded examples of living things he finds, much to the pleasure of the weary ones capable of expressing gratitude. It doesn't make them grow taller or less skinny, obviously, but it's still clearly functional healing. That makes it really strange when his attempts to lay hands upon the earth itself don't work. Kneeling in that field, surrounded by the brittle whispers of greys talks in the cold breeze, covered in deep shadows from a sun that is barely there, and sinking his finders into dirt that is as much ash and dust as it is soil, he'd get at least some impression of why. His magic spreads and radiates out into the ground soon enough, but to him, it seems as if it only bleeds away elsewhere, as if falling into a hole. It reinforces the fact that the place that he kneels feels less like a tract of blighted earth, and more like it belongs to somewhere . . . else. With the others looking around further, the nearby area turns out that it could scarcely be called a village. Somewhat like the settlers of the west in the early days of Earth's century before last, the land seems to have been roughly divided up on a family to family basis, intentionally connected by roads as worn into the ground as they are cleared, but otherwise fairly distant just due to the need for each to convert large amounts of land to growing crops --probably the only livelihood there is, or was, around here. Shooting for a town hall is a wash. This seems like the level of civilization that would involve its people meeting together at nexus of roads if matters are legitimately urgent, rather than a fancy building to discuss ordinary affairs. A church isn't really a thing either, though there are a handful of highly dusty and disused shrines outside of homes and on wider roads. Nobody's homestead looks particularly big enough to hold the several hundred people that likely dot the countryside here. It is, funny enough, Wandering Dog('s men) managing to corner an elderly woman silently sitting on a creaking chair on her porch that gets them the information they need: that the countryfolk have convened for an important religious ceremony, to petition 'the god of the land' for a remedy for their illness. It sounds relatively ordinary, until someone finally gets the picture that, by looking at her pale --not work-tanned-- skin and tiny --not shriveled or stooped-- frame that the 'old lady' is probably eight or nine years old. The few that Graceful Hands tracks down are considerably more helpful and informative, both in exchange for gifts, and for her general skill regarding gathering information. According to them, this god of the land has been helping them for the past nine years, almost immediately after the disease started spreading, when the folk discovered its sanctum in a 'sacred grove' to the north, just outside of the Shadowland belt's borders. It governs over trees with miraculous fruit that halts the progression of the illness, but they supposedly fruit very little, and so each year they petition it for seeds to spread as a planting rite, and grow more trees.
Bloody Revelations	Ryu sniffling around to track activity will at least get the general northernly direction from the scent of horses and men, but more than that, incense, smoke, wine, and similar, along the trails, roughly a little less than a day old by now. That, and Wandering Dog's info, is the best the group is going to get all on their own. Heading north, the paths soon converge and then disappear into a single packed road, far newer than the rest, where the meadow has simply been trampled down by sparse traffic. It's fairly long, and takes follower several miles, until the blotted darkness across the land is more or less on the horizon and 'groves' better describes lush mini-forests cropping up in the way, mostly being birch and aspen trees, with thick carpets of berries and flowers so early in the year. The one in particular they're looking for shouldn't be difficult to find, since even in the grey, the smoke rising on the horizon is visible. Rather than the scent of woodsmoke from a campfire or similar, however, the scent on the wind is more like that of charred meat and burning fabric. Getting close enough to spot the source, through thick screens of narrow, white-barked trees, it would seem to be because the forty-odd people clustered into a circular clearing aren't cooking or camping, but heaping possessions onto a pyre. Everything from sets of 'sunday best' to quality tools to useless things that are likely family heirlooms or rustic artwork carved or hammered just to for today go into the fire, as well as a pair of animal sacrifices having just been concluded, judging by the amount of cow's blood in the dirt and the bones on the fire. The clearing itself doesn't appear to be incredibly special at first glance, save one tree that is extremely out of place, being both very thick and broad, and extremely ancient and gnarled, with knotted ash-grey bark and silvery leaves, which bears fruit like thick white apples from a handful of its lowest branches. Prayer ropes have been looped around its twisted trunk over and over again, garlands and talismans have been hung from its branches, strings of valuable coins dangle from its leaves, and the ground around it is littered with uncoordinated rings of almost gaudy decorations and expensive tribute.
Ryu	Ryu meets up with some of the others shortly enough. He spots Asellus and looks... moderately embarrassed as he nears. He approaches, though, and wonders to her, "I didn't make anything too, uh... stressful by what I did, did I?" He's referring to his violent reaction to the Mystics that she had woken up to. It appears the dragon feels bad about his temper, though he's more concerned about the damage he might've caused than apologizing for it. He doesn't fret over it too much, though, frowning lightly as he walks. The journey leads everyone to a similar place, where the locals are performing some manner of sacrifice. He approaches the gathering and stands at the edge of it and his eyes lid half-closed as he observes like a proper outsider. His eyes squint at the fire, seeking some kind of magic in what they're doing. Then he approaches the tree, decorated as it is, and sniffs at the air around it. "Don't you all need this stuff?" he wonders, utterly ignorant to what's going on as he picks up his voice, "It seems like a waste to burn it." He does not understand religion at all, which means this whole ritual confuses the dickens out of him. "Is this some sort of spellwork...?" he wonders, looking down at the offerings to see if they give off any sort of magical signature, too. He can sense it, vaguely speaking, if there is a magical effect in play here.
Azure Armature	Following the strange healer for a few houses brings little to Armature's attention, though someone peddling medicine to people in need seems... entirely normal, really. The populat helping each other out was normal! This was the definition of a community, even as loose and disparate as this one. The lack of a town hall or any sort of local government is disconcerting, though. That and strange wasting diseases, but that is still attributeable to enemy action. Finding the bonfire before the great tree, Azure takes a few steps forward, blue energy ringing her right forearm in digital rings. "Cease this foolish action immediately, and then establish a provisional government to handle your problems." Azure calls out, projecting into the crowd of people. "In any order that pleases you." She adds, levelling her glowing hand (and Charged Shot) at the bonfire, blasting a jet of water like a firehose at it. "Tools are to be used, not wasted before a false process."
Asellus	As far as Asellus and White Rose are concerned, all the various worlds and dimensions and locales of the Multiverse are just 'more Regions'. They have yet to find out or have reason to care about the cosmological differences. When you can go to other planets and dimensions by hopping on a ship and going there as the natural order of business in life, some more dimensions and worlds being added is basically just, 'More Regions? Neat.' Strangers appearing out of nowhere is still something Asellus is getting used to though. She and White Rose turn when a nearby voice addresses them. "Who are you? Are you from here?" Asellus asks, looking over the unfamiliar face that has snuck up on them. White Rose stays quiet for now. Apparently her attempt to remain observant didn't work out. Or maybe this person is just good at sneaking around. As a band of six people, tough-looking, with two distinctly attired differently from the remaining three, approach, she takes the lead on this, stepping forward instead of allowing Asellus's version of 'diplomacy' to carry interactions. "Greetings. I am White Rose, and this is Lady Asellus. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Wandering Dog, Mamo, and companions. We are presently investigating the cause of this decay, though we were originally simply exploring this unfamiliar Region. The lady here has me at a loss. Is she with you?" she curtsies as she speaks, and then looks to 'Blue', who is not the Blue that the two Mystics may have encountered briefly in the past and have an unfavorable impression of, mostly revolving around yelling at someone because he didn't like their name. It does not appear that, absorbd as they are in OMFGSTRANGERS, either Asellus or White Rose have noticed any flickering distortions of a person going around to places, if they're even nearby. Asellus, impatient to go rescue people in need, sets off without waiting for the introductions to be complete. "We can team up if you're here to help people. If you know where these 'local leaders' gather, please point the way." Because she has no idea where she's going, no matter how purposefully she strides off.
Asellus	However, eventually they make it to the 'village', the two Mystics exploring and taking note of the disused shrines, the abandonment of this place, and then hearing from those left behind of this petition to a 'god' for longevity fruit or whatever. It doesn't make any sense to Asellus, but sounds like some sort of scheme. Something a scummy Mystic would pull to toy with and feed upon human lives. The timing is just too coincidental. And the affects upon even children is too horrifying to let stand. White Rose attempted to Heal those she encountered with her Light Magic, but she isn't sure what she can do about such accelerated aging, really. By the time Asellus marches into the forest, following the trail of smoke, she is absolutely furious, and White Rose is just doing her best to keep up with her. "Lady Asellus, we should be careful. We don't know what lies in wait for us up ahead." "I don't care! Whether it's this 'forest god' or something else, these people are suffering for nothing! I'm sure there's somewhere else they can live away from all this." "I wonder about that. But what I meant was perhaps we should wait and team up with the others. We stand more of a chance working together. And they do too." Reluctantly, Asellus slows down with the gathering in sight, fuming. The sword at her side vibrates with barely contained anger of its own, but she does not yet draw it. No reason to come into a ceremony armed and seem like the enemy. She has THAT much common sense at least. When she has more control over her temper, she advances into the clearing where everyone is burning their possessions. "Is giving up everything really all you can do to save yourselves?" the green-haired young woman asks by way of announcing herself. She should really let White Rose do the talking. "We have come to see if there is any way we can aid you." the more sensible of the two adds on.
Lin	All of the information's pointing the group to one location, and Lin dashes off for the distant ritual with all due haste! In fact she arrives just in time to overhear Ryu. And balk at Azure's actions! "... They burn what is valuable to them to honor the god they hope to sway to their way." She informs them. "I know not which god they appeal to, or their temperament or tastes. But unless -YOU- can cure the disease that ravages this land," the redhead snarls out towards the Alchemical, "Then you should let them call for help. See who shows up. Have you not seen the sickness here? How is a better government going to solve that?"
Asellus	Asellus pauses when she sees Ryu, remembering him as the one who got violent with Ildon. She pauses in her ritual interruption when the dragon guy approaches, and responds, "You expressed how you felt. You shouldn't hold that in when someone does something wrong."
Wandering Dog	One of the goons, Han, picks out that the old lady isn't actually old, being reminded of his niece too much. He whispers it to Wandering Dog, who only briefly looks in the direction of Graceful Hands but doesn't pay her too much attention. Some sort of salesman, probably? Regardless, even if she can't be eavesdropped on easily, he can, because he speaks very loudly and with no hushed tones. "Looks like whatever this is, it's pretty nasty. They're all heading to a ceremony for a local god to try and get it to help them out. Probably best to go talk to them and see what the big deal is." There's a nod to Lin. "If you want to challenge me, save it for after this is done. But I'm always up for a good one." Wandering Dog and his group then proceed to head on the path, grabbing a berry that doesn't appear poisonous and popping it into his mouth along the way, tasting the local fruit. Once they reach the bonfire, Wandering Dog watches briefly, actually moving to rummage around in his stuff to see if he has anythingto offer, when Azure Armature sprays out a blast of water. He rushes over to her. "Hey, watch what you're doing! They're probably sacrificing this to the local god, and if it's the vengeful sort, that might have just made things worse for them. Better to ask questions first in this sort of situation." Moving towards the group, Wandering Dog opens his palms as a gesture of peace. "We mean no harm. Name's Wandering Dog, famous adventurer who's crossed the Threshold, hero for the people. We're here to see what's up with this disease and if we can help. If your god's the type to get angry over this sacrifice being interruptd, just let me deal with him, alright?" He flashes a grin, perfectly okay with walking up to the people their group just messed with and being all nonchalant.
Graceful Hands	Armed with the new information, the woman clad in violet quickly decided to go do what those in her particular profession did: do things very subtly and sneakily. While she had her suspicions, it was better to confirm them for herself. Maidens knew that jumping the gun on something that was this minor was bound to get her in trouble, and if it turned out that it was the cats paw of someone much more important, the paperwork and finangling involved would be enough to make the god of paperwork himself weep. Taking to the trees with supernatural speed and grace, the figure in purple leapt from branch to branch, seemingly not even disturbing anything she touched. Perfectly silent, swift, and more or less hidden, she took the opportunity to look around from a good hiding and observation spot where she could see what was going on in the clearing. At the sight of multiple people, her head tilted. At the sight of strange other people who were definitely Not Normal coming in, a sort of silent groan passed through her face, before she nonchalantly went from a poised crouch to just sitting on a branch, watching from afar. Maybe she wouldnt have to do something at all. Gods willing, anyway. Though with Grace's luck, it would turn out that, actually, this was all a plot specifically to prove how she shouldnt be sticking her nose into things she wasnt involved in, jurisdiction be damned.
Bloody Revelations	Being pretty focused on observing the ritual burning, and used to being way out in the sticks where little of anything happens, nobody is on guard to watch against the interlopers now in their midst. Many more of them are, in fact, kneeling around a central shrine before the foot of the tree, between two especially large rambling roots, wreathed in grain stalks and stacked with food offerings that would probably be better off going into people's mouths. Though the entire thing oozed rurality from every facet of the scene, entering the clearing comes with a certain kind of tingling charge on the skin and vague expectancy of something happening all the same, like there is indeed something special about the site. Ryu bumbling his way in is met with some significant measure of surprise, but looking alarmed is all the people here can do. While many look perfectly healthy, others --mostly the younger ones-- look to be various degrees of unnaturally aged, and none of them seem to be armed beyond utility knives. Poking at the stuff on the fire, absolutely none of it is magical at all, being purely the handiwork of effectively farmer peasants, but some faint magic seems to be released by the burning of it, much like the heat released from igniting cold wood. "How ignorant are you?!" one farmer gasps in exasperation, while his older and burlier fellow starts pushing Ryu out of the way, muttering "You'd best leave. En Taey demands more respect than this. If you aren't sick, you shouldn't be here." A couple more start to look actually angry at Asellus when she opens her mouth. "Who are you people?" "They sound plenty soft. Probably some lost patrician if they don't even recognize hard word." "Kinda looks like one too." They begin actively dodging White Rose when she comes near past that point. The gathering is slowly turning into a rabble rather than a worship session, which then instantly gets about fifty billion times worse when Azure Armature hoses down the pyre. Cries of "What are you doing?!" and "Is is the Mask's spies?!" go up as men and women throw themselves in the way to try and block the hose stream, while others shove their hands in the fire to scrape away the wet wood. Those at the shrine are almost shouting their prayers to keep themselves focused and to drown out the outdoors noise, clearly desperate that this tiny bit of 'magic' that they can do not be for nothing. It's a big enough interruption to matter, at least. The sort of pre-storm tingling presence in the clearing condenses around the silvery tree, coalescing at its foot and slowly materializing into a corporeal form. Before the crowd of less-shocked-than-one-would-think peasants appears a roughly humanoid figure that is clearly and unmistakably modeled after its 'patron object', looking like an exceptionally old, bent, and wizened old man, with skin like ashen bark, thick hair of silvery leaves, and knobbled walking cane of the wood of the white-fruiting tree behind him. The farmers immediately throw themselves and prostrate before the nature spirit-looking thing. "Oh? You'll deal with me, would you?" the tree-man says to Wandering Dog outright, with a voice like crackling branches and the cough of a grandfather fond of smoking. "You don't particularly look like one of those bothersome monks to me. Any of you, even. Do you have any idea who I am? Who I know? I'd advise you not to bring such hostility to my doorstep, especially with the delicate lives of these needy people in the balance. I don't appreciate this kind of 'company' you've gathered up here. No no, not one bit."
Asellus	So much for not antagonizing the people they're here to rescue by coming into their ritual being hostile. Azure sprays water onto the fire. Asellus doesn't enough about the ritual or if it even actually does anything to be THAT invasive of it. But when the godling appears, Asellus has already taken in more of how the youngest among them are the ones unnaturally aged. And the 'aged' look of the 'god' who appeared modelled after his tree. The embers of her anger flare up again. "White Rose and I didn't come here to interrupt your ritual. But now I see it's needed. Treebeard or whatever your name is, if these people are so needy, then do you demand they sacrifice what little they have to you instead of just helping them? You're now trying to use their lives as bargaining chips. If you really cared about their well-being, you'd just help them!" White Rose noticed the avoidance given her. She doesn't know what to make of it, but adds her soft voice to Asellus's and Wandering Dog's as they challenge the spirit. "Honorable tree spirit, I apologize for the disturbance. I can not speak for all of us, but I believe we mutually agree that helping the people of this village is a shared priority. Can you explain what is happening to the youngest among this village, to this land, and what precisely you aim to do to fix it? It might provide us with more context for the situation, what assistance we might render, and who is truly responsible."
Lin	Lin groans inwardly and a bit outwardly as the crowd starts getting unruly at all of this rowdiness from the unexpected bunch she's ended up with today. She goes so far as to clap a hand to her forehead-- but quickly remembers her forehead when the telltale rush of Essence surges through the place and who she assumes to be En Taey materializes before them. Although most materials might think to bow before a god, the redhead just faces him head on. Nothing about her posture is exactly hostile - but nor is it deferential. She's regarding the god from a fairly neutral standpoint. And if the God is as astute as many, and able to scent such things, En Taey can probably tell why. Because Lin's doing nothing to mask the sunlit warmth of her soul. "Can't speak for the others here, not one bit." The redhead proclaims, taking a single step forward. "Not even sure who half of 'em are. But if you are En Taey, then I must ask for a God's wisdom. Shadowlands pepper this region like flies swarming a dead horse. The people are sick. Why? What can be done?" She casts a glare at Azure Armature, one that says 'try that again and I'll throw you halfway to Mt. Meru'.
Ryu	Ryu looks pretty baffled by the exasperation he receives. He is, however, ignorant, and the sad look he gives in response is a little telling of how he feels about realizing the consequences of his bumbling. He turns his head momentarily to look at the others, and then notes the one trying to push him out of the way. This doesn't work. Ryu leans into it and effortlessly fails to budge from his spot unless he really wants to, and gives the guy a serious look of incredulity for trying. But he does submit to the poor man's words, instead, stepping away from the tree to look at it from a more respectable distance... if only for the sake of the commoners. When the local god appears, he looks startled... and then he looks increasingly unhappy with how the god addresses everyone. "You're a pretty shit god," Ryu points out, "This place looks like it's dying, and all you're doing is making it harder for these people to survive it. Look at all of this food they're just giving up. These possessions. People need what makes them people to live through a storm like this. And once they're gone, you won't have anything but that smug attitude of yours and your connections, and that corruption creeping up on you every day." Ryu points toward the direction of the cold wind. "Give us a good reason to listen to you. Your track record is garbage."
Azure Armature	Asellus gets an aside. "I'm a pathfinder and a troubleshooter. I go by 'Blue'. Don't worry about it. As the people start to jump in the way, Azure coldly continues, though she seems 'careful enough' to not riot hose people into the fire, for what little mercy is that. Arcing the stream over people is good enough, until the 'God' himself appears. Lin gets up in her business while that happens, so she has some time while the god cutscenes to continue with her asides. "Proper civic arrangement and government would apportion resources properly and care for those with needs while optimizing skills. This false process is consuming precious capital and sentimental work-enhancers for a temporary fix." Azure gestures to the waning congregation. "These idiots don't know what they want or what they need. I am telling them what works: organization and proper authoritative action. Not seeking panacea from this exploiter. Does he fix their fields? Bless their tools?" Azure doesn't precisely spit on the ground, but she does fire a spiteful globe of water into the smoking pyre. It's similar. "That healer woman moved among the people and acted with more intent than this god. She should represent them, and work towards either migration or renewal efforts." She draws up, looking down her half-concealed nose at Lin. "Don't apologize for a failed system as if tradition is an absolute defense. A system either works or it does not, and you can measure that success by civic health and long-term targets. Neither are being met. Radical restructuring is the next step." Armature raises her voice once more, projecting. "You defend a false solution, while most everyone here has shown some better way. They heal your land, they tend to your crops, they think of your needs. Two even defend your belief, but this god steals from you!" She lowers her tone, turning her head incrementally to WD. "This malignant tumor of a spirit is the problem. Open your eyes."
Wandering Dog	As the people freak out, Wandering Dog sighs, and turns his attention towards En Taey as he arrives. There's a small glance to Azure Armature. "If the god's doing its job, doesn't it deserve payment for what it gives? Equal trade of services. It gives sacrifices, they get a cure. Though, all depends on if this is actually equal to what it gives." He says, as he turns towards the god fully. "But you don't seem deserving of jack. Threatening the people because of our actions? That's low. I may not be a monk..." Wandering Dog cracks his knuckles. "But I can still be a master of Wood Dragon Style." Indeed, anyone who is immortal could possibly tell that Wandering Dog is capable of slaying even the immortal, one of his most prized techniques. With a roll of his neck, a fantastical image appears around him, an aura, that seems to comprise of two black waterfalls on either side of him and a roiling pattern of brown and black roads. Wandering Dog's expression is stern, as his goons stare up at it, and then pose around him, trying to hype him up. "So, with you souring the mood, everything's lying on you now. The people around here are dying, and you can help them. And you're going to do such, in fair exchange of your life. I, Wandering Dog of the Eternal Traveller Style, will rip you apart if you don't. You had a chance at negotiation until you went around threatening them, so blame yourself for your fate."
Graceful Hands	Nope. Nothing could ever be simple. It never could. Oh well, time to go do things. Things escalating here would be bad. And possibly get a dressing down from people who honestly at this point at time she should not be pissing off. With a dramatic leap from trees embedded in the clearing, the woman in violet rose straight into the air, landing with a flourish in front of the tree-god and the party of general, well, do-gooders. Grace hoped, anyway. This was a bad place for a fight, and people who talked like they were concerned about the people usually could be convinced to not make with the stabbing and murdering. Again, usually. These were strange times. Slowly rising, the woman put her thumb and forefinger to her lips and simply gave a rather loud and sharp whistle, intending to get everyones attention. "Alright, listen up! No need for anyone to fight here, this is a civil affair. Nobody has to get hurt here, and...uh..." She paused for a moment, briefly considering the odd collection of people in front of her. She had been watching them from a distance, but up close, her bemusement was more or less clearly visible, reflected in her violet eyes. "Do you mind telling me who you are and what you're doing here? Obviously I can see you're interested in...well, that." she said, waving to the burning pile of stuff. "And you're probably concerned about them" Another wave to the gathered rabble. "But, uh...as much as you'd probably like to punch him in the face, it'd probably be a bad idea and not worth your time, not least of all you'd officially be..." The woman lowered her voice. "Involved in the worst type of politics: petty god politics." Clearing her throat, the woman addressed the crowd, raising some sort of document with some vaguely official looking writing. "Please return to your homes! The great En Taey wishes to parlay with these outsiders and he requires privacy for the words he wishes to speak are needed to be said in the utmost of confidence! I shall see to it that he shall not be harmed!" After her little address to the crowd, the woman looked back to the treeman and seemed to mouth something that looked something like the phrase "starmetal."
Bloody Revelations	The spirit who is indeed En Taey stands in the middle of what amounts to a collective verbal assault leaning on his cane and shaking his twiggy head slowly side to side with a dry rustling of leaves, making slow, quiet 'tut tut' sounds like snapping bark. "Dear dear, I don't know what to make of this. I would be prone to say that you must be agents of the Mask of Winters to come here with such nonsense and interrupt the lives of ordinary people, but the Mask of Winters employs more competent goons than this. Are you meant to be some poor mockery of a cat's paw? I can't recall having any enemies in the Rivers' Wood Court, and certainly no rivals so inept. Are you simply mad? Or has the little stripling sun-prince in your midst blinded you all with magic?" "The Shadowlands across the lands are the work of the Deathlord, of course. Who else but a necromancer of such power do anything close to this? Is there any corner of Creation that hasn't heard of him? How would you expect /I/ to do anything about it, much less do it in the first place? As you can see, my tree has been here for many, many years, long before this dark taint on the soil of Creation began, and I've minded my own business quite thoroughly. Why would you /expect/ people to grow ill? Living with one foot in the Underworld is no state for a human being, never mind for someone to be born. Who knows what that dread ghost has been poisoning the land with as well. These people are fortunate that a panacea tree like myself was here in the first place, or else they'd be in quite a bit of trouble." He takes his knobbly fingers off his cane for a moment, slowly and stiffly spreading them across the clearing, drawing attention to the whole lot of nothing impressive there. "By all means, if you think these unfortunate souls would be able to pool their cattle and grains together to somehow /miraculously/ cure such a disease, go ahead. Certainly that would be an appropriate use of their resources, yes? But until such a time as you can /conjure/ medicines equal to my tree from wood and wheat, I believe there isn't much choice. Even if you somehow heal the sick here, more will only follow. More will continue to follow as long as the Mask of Winters exists, and he doesn't appear to be going anywhere soon. The only solution /I/ see is to carefully cultivate the next generation of seeds, for the next generation of mortals, so that there might be enough to share for all, no? Even you couldn't expect me to somehow provide unlimited amounts of such powerful fruit without sufficiently potent prayer and offerings. To be plain, they're fortunate I felt so kind in the first place. These were my lands long before theirs, and many of the wood spirits agree."
Bloody Revelations	He then brings that statement around into a veiled counter-threat to Wandering Dog. "Oh, so hired thugs is it? Here for a good old fashioned shakedown? A little bullying and intimidation, and skimming Essence off the top? How shameful. I'm certain there are a great many other spirits who should be warned of ruffians like these in the area. Perhaps those in charge of the Court. Yes, I believe a /personally delivered/ message to the /ranking gods/ of the region, working /directly below/ the Censor, would be in order. I couldn't in good conscience stand the idea of you threatening my fellows in such a vulgar manner." It sounds like a lot of bureaucrat-ese, but it's intentional --vague and ominous name drops to give the impression of being connected to important figures that could make someone's life hell. It might even be true, given the state of this place, and the fact that nobody has seen fit to take this place over for such a valuable commodity despite being overseen by such a minor and un-warlike god. He seems briefly shocked, and then immediately after, intensely smug, as the surprise woman leaps down from the treetops to break up the gathering, getting so far as to see "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when that lazybones would finally send someone. Please, take care of these-" before she flourishes the document in his face, where he immediately goes silent. His bark appears to pale, and the leaves on his head darken and go slightly limp to express what his wooden features cannot. The mortal followers all around the clearing seem exceptionally reluctant to move, until En Taey himself, visibly shaken/ing, actually bids them to leave of his own 'cooperative will', promising them that he'll "sort everything out" and that they can come back "at the usual time" for their rewards of devotion. Reluctantly, they begin to pack up and leave, one by one, until the last one has finally gone, where he then shouts "Where did you get that?! What is this?! Who are you /really/ working for?!"
Lin	With Wandering Dog turning incredibly hostile allasudden, Lin's brow furrows with hints of panic. She BACKFLIPS away with lightning-like reflexes and establishes herself at least fifteen feet away, wary of the Terrestrial's Anima Flux. It wouldn't be the first time she's encountered a Dragon-Blooded after all! "A Water Aspect?!" Well his markings weren't so clear, so how was she to know! She's looking rapidly between the god - trying to listen to his explanation - and Wandering Dog - as if pondering interposing herself before he does anything too drastic. But she's locked with indecision, one hand drifting to her (very ordinary, at the moment) sheathed sword... but not quite touching the hilt. "If this is the Deathlord's work--" She begins in quite the grouchy tone, doing her best not to respond to that insult to her integrity - for fear of causing a FURTHER panic here in front of all the mortals -- she just grints her teeth. The god's insinuated she'd go about mind controlling people!? It's the sharp whistle that breaks her teeming frustration and indignation. Her mind goes briefly blank and she whips around to look over her shoulder... Her shaky hand breaks away fromt he sword she'd been pondering drawing. Instead, Lin just devolves into a series of confused blinks. "Karal Rei Lin of Grantine Village. Nowhere by here." In fact, it probably doesn't even exist in this Creation. Not that Lin's checked. The name Karal might speak of Lookshy, but Lin doesn't quite have the right nationality. The fashion sense is very shogunate, though. "Who are you...?" Who is this girl, especially, if she can get a god miffed? Lin's sharp eyes try to get a good look at that document... Whether she can read it is another matter. Her grasp of Old Realm is only so-so.
Asellus	Everything about this situation, including her own ignorance of the details, is ticking Asellus off. She is letting others speak, make their own threats and statements and attempts at diplomacy, in an attempt to gain a bit more information. But one thing En Taey says sticks out to her. Something she'll be bringing up in a moment. For now, she looks to where Ryu is, the only person here she actually KNOWS aside from White Rose, to see if he has any more idea than she does. She is in firm agreement with him, but isn't even interested in letting this trickster have THAT much wiggle room. White Rose says, "A number of us are not 'from' here, so to speak. We are from other Regions. Other worlds. I apologize if our ignorance of local customs has offended or caused disruption. But I must agree with what others have said. Allowing these people to die in order to save a generation that may never come as a result of this spreading sickness and pollution is not a plan I believe is considered acceptable. Though others are welcome to correct me on that point. If you are willing to work with us, we could reduce the burden upon your own powers, and save these people and those that come after, even if the long-term threat is this 'Mask of Winters'. I would like to hear more abou--" But there is more blustering, more threats, some great power radiating from Wandering Dog, from 'Blue', and from assorted others. And then... Then... Some lady in violet appears. White Rose blinks for a moment, thinking Asellus has just jumped into the fray, but no, this is a different lady in violet. "Some illumination about what is transpiring and whose word we should listen to would be most welcome, ma'am. I am White Rose. I travel with Lady Asellus. We are both quite lost about the specifics of this world and the interactions between its spiritual leaders and the petitioners thereof." Asellus, no longer able to keep quiet, and eyeing the new-comer suspiciously, says, "White Rose and I can provide both medicine and magical healing. Enough to get these people back on their feet and moving somewhere else, far away from here, where they won't have to deal with this Mask of Winters. You have no bargaining power here, En Taey. You'll be here to deal with this death-spreader by yourself, and these 'mortals' will be living normal, happy, healthy lives without your help. And we won't even need to use violence." Asellus turns to her companion. "I think that woman can handle talking to this spirit. We should go back to the village, treat their illness, and start working on finding a new place for them to live. There's a bio-research laboratory in Shrike that could maybe undo the disease affecting the children. We might try talking to them." En Taey is no longer even a priority for Asellus. His assistance isn't necessary to fix any of this. In her mind, just moving the people will solve the situation completely.
Ryu	Ryu looks displeased by the tree spirit's responses in full. He is ignorant of bureaucracy, and he is the last person to be cowed by a god when he has demonstrable power to defy the laws of life and death that gods find so sacred. He just lifts his brows in interest when his power is challenged... but the name drop 'Mask of Winters' gathers some interest. His head turns and there is a distinct impression that the direction of his ire was refocused to something much more deserving now that he knows that it exists. One of his eyes close in thought, and he brings a hand up to his chin, tapping with a knuckle. "Hnn." However, the Sidereal shows up, and Ryu suddenly snaps his head in that direction, looking startled beyond measure. It was quite a fast turn, like a frame had skipped on a video. He squints toward the woman as she displays some glorious paperwork skill that gets the god to clam up. It impresses Ryu enough that he nods in approval, especially because it means he doesn't have to get violent now. And now he has something else to do, someone else to hunt down. Not bothering to stick around now that his priorities have shifted and the real problem has been diagnosed, Ryu shifts his footing and-- He's gone. He launched up into the air, and if one is lucky, they might see a streak of light disappear into the distance.
Azure Armature	Azure watches events unfold, confused and lacking critical knowledge on why this would matter or not matter, the proper or improper authority. But something was very clear to her. "You ask me for a miracle. I am fit to provide one." She sweeps a hand out, to the fleeing people, ignoring the jeers and verbal jabs and accusations of being some agent of the Mask. "I have seen more compassion in the ghosts of Thorns for their mortal relatives than for you to 'your people'. If the Shadowland kills them, then the can be righted and moved. Gather their crops and their cattle, as you say, and leave. You were here long before them, I cannot dispute." Making a grandstanding 'well, what is it?' gesture with both hands as she takes a few steps back. "So when they leave there will be no issue. Your lack of civics disgusts me. And --" She addresses Dog. "An equal exchange of goods and services is what proper civics provides. Not this... profiteering. This is base gluttony at the expense of the populat." Addressing the woman in violet, Azure gives a deferential nod. "Petty politics are not my business, I suppose. But some measure of consistently beneficial use of material is always a positive. If you will handle the 'petty god'..." She turns to Ryu as he superspeeds away. "I suppose I've little to do."
Wandering Dog	En Taey's reaction to Wandering Dog causes the martial artist to grimace, as does his overall attitude. "Hah, you think I'm scared of you? I don't care who you call, and I don't care if it's the Censor himself. I'm more than just some thug. I'm a hero of the people, and if you're giving them a hard time because you feel entitled when they're willing to give it all to you, then you're a waste of space. Either play fair or shut the hell up." The aging Dragon-Blooded's bravado gets his men making gestures and nodding vigorously at him, and Wandering Dog's about to take a step forward towards En Taey when the woman in violet interposes herself. "Fine, fine. Already said my name several times, you must have heard it. If he can cure these people, and by the way he's talking, he obviously can, then he should help these people in exchange for the prayer and sacrifice they offer. If the Mask of Winters is part of the issue, he'll just need to be dealt with as well, crush him and his undead back where they belong." Wandering Dog replies to her, watching as the locals walk off. As she provides a document and En Taey's entire attitude changes, however, his eyes widen, and his grimace slowly turns into a grin. "I have no idea what you just showed him, but I like you already, girl. Alright, I don't know what you just saw, but you might want to listen to us, now. Because if whatever she just showed you needs to be enforced, I'm quite willing to give her a hand." There's also a brief nod to Azure Armature. "I'm inclined to agree with you, now. Punk's gone way too far."
Graceful Hands	"So...let me tell you guys a really funny joke. A dragonblood, a solar anathema, a bunch of outsiders walk into a bar in Yu-Shan...well, nevermind. No, no, no, you've got some of it right. There's definitely something wrong going on here, and this guy..." The woman jabbed a thumb at the tree person now standing behind her. "Totally knows what he's doing. But the reason why he was so blustery at the start...I mean, you could definitely punch him in the face. And while he is a dick, I don't think he's enough of a dick to actually use people as a human shield. Mostly because if they definitely died, then this guy would also be gone." She gave a sigh, before looking back towards the tree-man. Though, oddly enough, for all the speaking she was doing, as well as the fact that she asked who everyone was, someone might've noticed the fact that this interrupter had avoided reciprocating. "Healers, eh? Well, there's definitely some stuff to be done but...as someone who also may or may not know how to heal someone, treating symptoms is all good and well, but you cure by cutting the cause out of things, right? So, you gotta ask yourself...man, this sounds really, really, really convenient. A desperate terrestrial god, whose worshippers are leaving in droves because of the whole...well, I dunno if you guys have been here long, but the ominous dark and forboding parts of Creation aren't really good for people. Guys like En Taey here...they depend on worship to get by. No worshippers means...well, bad things." Clapping a hand on the shoulder of the god, she motioned towards the group. "So, you guys like doing good, right? Now, you have to ask yourself, what would a god who's afraid of losing themselves turn to in order just to survive? What would bind a whole bunch of people, even in these trying times, to devote themselves? Maybe being sick enough that you couldn't move. But on the other hand...if this guy wasn't here, I can tell you right now, disease or no disease, this place wouldn't have a hope of surviving. Again, I'm taking you for do-gooders here, and I'm assuming you're not callous enough to leave someone who'd literally starve to death without worship to just wither away." She turned to Asellus, frowning a bit. "You'd probably get takers to leave, but also...what I just said, and also, the people who live here consider it their home. They're proud people. It's why they're still here, even if they have to sacrifice..." The pile was motioned to. "Come on, buddy. Tell the outsiders what you really did, and why you did it. We both know that you're kind of screwed either way. Maybe these guys can help."
Bloody Revelations	"If? /If/?!" En Taey manages to spit out in flabberghasted consternation at Lin. "Who else?! Do you know anyone else capable of this level of Necromancy?! There aren't exactly many! Of course it's the Mask of Winters!" A lot of his 'grandfatherly' air is gone, as well as even the more coldly professional air after. "You have absolutely no idea what you're doing here, do you? Who you're being used by?" he sputters in disbelief as others claim they're going to clean the place up and leave, either missing or obtusely refusing the point he's getting at. Soon, he's left alone with the hardasses. "Nothing about this is /civics/. It's /reality/, plain and simple. Do you not understand? How long do you think those Shadowlands are going to keep expanding? How long until Thorns itself absorbs them and keeps growing? How long do you think it is until there aren't any mortals /left/ here? /Civics/, are you joking? And you! If you're such a 'hero of the people', then by all means, run off and show the old ghost you mean business! Or is it just easier to bully minor gods?" He manages to grow even paler when Graceful Hands takes control of matters. The sense is that he'd be sweating bullets if trees could sweat. The sketchy old tree looks left, then looks right, then clearly deliberates whether he's going to incriminate himself or buy himself some leeway with a confession. After a minute of leaf rustling and joint creaking, he finally stammers and spits out: "Mue-Lee. That's who it was. He agreed to it for a third of the cut, greedy bastard. He's the one who abused his power, not me! A disease god infecting mortals just because an irrelevant old tree spitballed it once? Ridiculous, right? I wasn't even serious! He's the one you want! He's complicit in it at least! Don't do anything hasty, alright? I can prove it! I can give you names! Names you're not going to get if I'm dead, you see?"
Azure Armature	Good cop bad cop? Count Blue in! "If these people are tied to diseased land, the land can be burned. If the god will fight and die, lest he wither away without prayer, all the more kindling for progress. If you wonder at the dispositon of the sunk cost and lament what must be paid for the betterment of the people, then you have no stomach for civics." Azure reasons coldly, her tone clinical. "The dependant isn't the people, it is the God. And people are too ignorant to know what they want. They must be told. A man can be intelligent, but a people must be led." Graceful Hands, however, does her best Good Cop routine and half-spills, half teases out the useful information. "Deific racketeering, then? How base. But..." Azure steps forward, her eyes falling away from the Tree-God to Graceful Hands, holding out a few scrips of ticker tape, the kind that came out of accounting calculators. "If you wish to get involved in real politics, you should pursue these freqencies. The Mask moves on Lookshy and a revolution in Thorns has dealt a blow. If you've the fortitude to do what actually should be done, like here, then..." She shrugs. "Think on it." As for the tree god, she shrugs. "Produce the cure, or don't. It's not hard to find a tree once you know where it is. Nor is it hard for fire to find dry, abandoned branches. Think on that while you act in line with the woman in violet's instructions."
Lin	Lin's now GLARING at En Taey. "Actually, yeah? Not nearby. But plenty of awful stories about what makes Shadowlands. Battlefields and towns where the plague got everyone... you come across 'em once in a while. Nasty places, 'n nothing you can do about it." Lin's trying to keep her voice even, but even with Graceful Hands talking peace her sword hand twitches a few times. Of course, she was hiding what she is, so when Graceful Hands makes a note of it... the violet-clad girl gets a curious blink from Lin. Then her attention's right back on the God. "And I know where we are. It's a hard and long trek to get here from Thorns! Would take me a few good days of running! I know a few things about Geomancy, so if you're half as great a God you claim to be, show me where the dragon lines're being poisoned from so far away. 'n I'll see what I can do!" Her formal speech is degrading fast to quick and informal out of anger, but it's probably better than drawing the sword. And then... a great deal of information's unleashed. Lin looks - again, confusedly - at Graceful Hands, and then back to the god. "... Well. That answers whether you care a lick or not about the local people. There's where all the shadowlands are coming from. Lemme get this straight. You're just LETTING it happen?" She crosses the distance in a hurry now, reaches right out and GRABS the 'old man' god by whatever he's wearing and hoists him up. "You're gonna give names AND you're gonna do EVERYTHING you can do to make this situation better, or I'm turning your tree into kid's toys! Got it?!" Of course she'll let him go and back down, folding her arms, because now her eyes are on Graceful Hands... just a hint suspicious.
Asellus	Ryu takes off super-speed style, leaving Asellus with only one known ally here. Oh, well. Maybe they'll run into each other again in the future. White Rose was actually about to point that out. "I will help you and them however I can, but these people might not be willing to move--" The nameless newcomer says basically the same thing. She is neither empathizing with nor condemning En Taey as the magic lawyer speaks of his hardships and what he is doing out of desperation and so on, but as Asellus was starting to have misgivings, White Rose goes stiff at the admittance of what is transpiring. And Asellus trembles with anger. She draws the sword at her side. An ominous red blade seemingly made of wrath itself, forged into a weapon. With Asura in her hand, Asellus begins to advance on En Taey. "You did this. You lied to us, and to them. You spun your pity story, made your boasts, tried to threaten us through them, and it was you all along. This 'Mask of Winters' will get what's coming to him, but YOU...!" "Lady Asellus, wait...!" She stops a couple feet away from the negotiator and En Taey, and Asura is brought up to point at the minor deity's throat. "Oh, you'll give us names alright. And you'll admit to what you did to those people openly, in front of them. And then THEY'LL decide if they still want YOU! White Rose and I will do everything we can to replace what you've stolen from them, but you'll be getting no more sacrifices. And if they decide they'd rather do without you..." The crimson gleam of that blade flows like molten rage. "You'd better hope one of your friends can bail you out. You conniving, supernatural parasite. Scum like you who prey upon those weaker than you don't deserve to live." White Rose looks to the still-unnamed woman and says, "You seem to know a great deal about all this. Would you be willing to walk us through what is involved in ridding the land of the necromancy of this 'Mask', and what we can do in the meantime to make this place livable again? And might you offer your name so that we know what to call you by?"
Wandering Dog	"I get the picture. Piece of rotted bark here thought he could get away with threatening the people. Bullying a minor god? That's what you call this?" As everything's laid out, Wandering Dog is clearly angry, actually cracking his knuckles. If En Taey thinks he's a thug, he's going to get a thug. "You listen here. You are going to help them. You are going to give us every name you got. You're going to make sure these people get what they're owed. And if I hear you're screwing with them again, I'll tear off your branches one by one." Wandering Dog actually starts pacing. "This Mue-Lee, huh? Tell me everything you know about him. I'm entirely willing to pay him a visit and teach him why you don't invest in half-wits. You're lucky I'm not rending you, punk." He actually laughs at Asellus moving her blade up to him, and as she luckily stops, speaks. "Looks like I'm not the only one who would, either. And then, there's a turn towards Graceful Hands. "So, you. What are /you/doing here, anyways? I don't see people flashing papers at god and making them soil their soil like that usually. Pretty interesting, if you ask me." Wandering Dog wonders. People don't just show up out of trees usually, after all.
Graceful Hands	"...man, so much for do-gooders." Flicking her hair off her shoulders, the woman in purple shrugged. "People do what they do to survive and get by. Lot of gods do the whole brave stand up thing, but they're also dead." Meanwhile, the ticker tape wasn't noticed until a second after it was offered, and then quickly snatched up and held to the sky. "What is thi-....eh? Oh yeah, sure, I'd bet my last dreamstone that the Mask would screw up something hilariously simple and get beaten down at the last second. It'd be poetic too, getting defeated by a bunch of..." she trailed off, only to instantly raise her hands up and try and step towards the angry person with the weapon. "Hey, hey! We're all civil people here, no executing anyone. If you really want to look at it from a numbers point of view, having an ally...and more important, an ally who owes you..." She flicked a gaze towards the treeman. "Is one more person who'll stand with you against...well, bad people. Undead. Ghosts. Wait, no, that's a bad example, don't quote me on that. Necromancy gets confusing and...ahhh, I'll explain later!" At the question about her name, she blinked for a moment. "Oh. Right! You guys probably won't have that issue with the...thing that I can't talk about. I'm known as Graceful Hands, and this is my neck of the woods, so to speak. I'm with the people who run this place. By "place" I mean Creation." A fan of paper strips with writing on them, that looked vaguely like calligraphy were proferred. "Here! Just give these to someone who knows a god or two and they can get you to where I work. And someone mentioned something about a frequency? But yes, you're all outsiders, and you're unfamiliar with how things work here. I can explain almost everything, and make your lives a whole lot easier!" Wandering Dog received an odd look after the proffering of prayer scrips, and Grace squinted for a moment. "...you don't get what I'm talking about? But you're actually from around here. Come on, you look like a clued in Dragonblooded. You know who I am and who I work for, right?"
Lin	"Do-gooders, pft. I'm here to help people. Don't care much if you are from Yu-Shan, miss. If you -weren't- though, this guy'd be getting more than just a shakedown!" She glares at the god. "First thing he did is accuse me of using twisted magics to abuse people. And we had a lot of weirdos show up here, but..." Lin now begins to confusedly scratch the back of her hand, hostility vanished. "Ah, whatever..." She shrugs helplessly at Graceful Hands. "I've NO tolerance for liars, traitors, and anyone who'll look on all these people in need and knowingly let the cause of it do as they please. If people come to you for help, entrusting you with everything they've got, you BETTER DAMN WELL HELP THEM!" Grumble grumble grumble...
Bloody Revelations	Held up at swordpoint and now being /credibly/ threatened with having his soul punched into pieces by Wandering Dog with a court order backing him, all of En Taey's snide political bluster dies straight away. "P-plea bargain! Got it? I'll tell you everything you need to know about him! He's been governing diseases in this area since centuries ago! It wasn't my idea alright! I'll tell you whatever you need to know, but I'm /not/ becoming Starmetal alright?!" He's clearly someone who knows that it's not smart to pick fights with large groups of supernatural strangers, and does not resist from there. The unfortunate fact is that there are maybe thirty fruits in all on the branches of his spirit sanctum, but he's in no position /not/ to surrender them either. The countryside farmers are going to need some thorough explaining.