Pharast 29, 4713 (evening, the Forest of Spirits)

Munasukaru, The Least is dead, and with that the voices in my head have finally silenced. I’d grown so used to them that I was nearly startled by the stillness. As Munasukaru’s body fell to the ground, Yuka’s thoughts coalesced into a single, coherent voice: My tormentor is dead. I can finally leave in peace. And then there was nothing.

Almost nothing. I was staring at the naginata still clutched in Munasukaru’s lifeless hands, and I knew right then that I could use it. Yuka may have passed on, but somehow she left this macabre gift behind. I could sense the naginata’s balance, time it’s swing, see it flowing and dancing around me as it cut and sliced…and I wanted it. And now that we know what it is? I want it even more.

How exactly did Munasukaru come across one of the ancestral weapons? That’s probably another entry on our list of mysteries that will never be solved, though I suppose in this case the “what” is more important than the “how”. Dasi examined the symbols engraved in the naginata and said they identify the House of Sugimatu, one of the five imperial families of Minkai. Like Suishen, the naginata even has a name—The Thundering Blade—though unlike Suishen, it can’t talk. Which, as far as I am concerned, is a point in it’s favor. One talking ancestral weapon has been more than enough.

I am holding on to it. For now, anyway.

Munasukaru, The Least. They actually called her that. The oni kept a library of sorts, shelves filled with everything from carved tablets to silk scrolls to rice paper tomes. The most interesting of these is an enormous volume that serves as a historical record of the Five Storms—turns out it’s just some stupid, arbitrary name—written in a beautiful and meticulous tien script. Munasukaru, it seems, was part of their leadership, or officers, or one of the board of directors, or whatever you want to call it, and “Munasukaru, The Least” appears to have been her official title. We see it printed here, over and over again. I bet they even called her that to her face. Can you imagine?

This record doesn’t end with their escape. The handwriting abruptly changes to a sloppy script that degenerates over time into nearly incomprehensible scribbles on the final pages. It must be Munasukaru’s writing—it seems she was The Least at penmanship, as well—chronicling her descent into madness after being abandoned here. She was ordered to stay behind for the sole purpose of keeping the kami out, so that they wouldn’t learn what the Five Storms had done or what they were planning. Finally, the Five Storms had found a job that Munasukaru could handle: sit and stay. Good girl.

If I am reading this correctly, she was obsessed with the leader, Anamurumon. She desired him, lusted after him, and also hated him for ordering her to stay here. Why am I not surprised to learn that the oni have mastered the art of abusive relationships? And, ever the victim, Munasukaru obeyed without question, probably hoping that he’d someday care.

It’s all just so overly dramatic and pedestrian. The more I read, the more obvious it becomes that what the Five Storms do best is undermine each other. It’s page after page of betrayal and infighting. Like they learned how to be human from bad theater, the sort that makes Kikonu’s play into an aspirational goal.

Yet, despite all that infighting, Anamurumon has always been the head of the snake. That in itself makes him pretty dangerous, and then there’s the whole “wind yai oni” aspect on top of it. We’ll almost certainly have to go through him to put Ameiko on the Throne. So there is that to look forward to.

The kami say that Munasukaru was not originally part of the oni that make up the Five Storms: she came along later. She and her hobgoblins were just some wandering nuisance in the Forest that eventually found their way to the House of Withered Blossoms, and once she entered she couldn’t leave. I am guessing she wasn’t expecting that. (Neither was I, but I guess it’s nice to get a question answered for a change: the screwy rules that kept the Five Storms imprisoned applied to newcomers as well. Hence why her spawn couldn’t leave, either. The whole family was basically stuck with each other for eternity. I don’t even know where to begin with that. We may have accidentally done them all favors.)

The next few days should be interesting. The kami didn’t pay us for our services, of course, so we are claiming everything we found as compensation. Which is a polite way of saying we are looting the House and everything underneath it. That means we are carrying an enormous pile of sheer random crap: opium, ancient coins, carvings, shoes, gold- and silver-plated whatsits, porcelain whosits, and enough morningstars and tatami-do armor to equip an army of hobgoblins. I haven’t seen a pile of junk this big since Snorri Stone-Eye’s funeral boat.

It will take the better part of a week to liquidate it all, and the only city for hundreds of miles is Muliwan. Which means going back to Muliwan. It’s been long enough that I’m not really worried, but if there were another option I’d choose the other option.

Pharast 30, 4713 (morning, the Forest of Spirits)

We head back to the caravan today. Given the option we wouldn’t walk, but with sixteen rescuees to escort to safety we are simply too many for magical shortcuts. Not without splitting us up, anyway, which we don’t want to do. And that’s fine. I am actually looking forward to it. We spent too much time literally in the dark.

I was able to talk to mom earlier. We found this crystal ball in Munasukaru’s den and I figured, why not use it and save myself a spell? It’s got a flaw in it, but it’s not one that keeps it from working. “Working” is pretty much all that I needed.

I was hesitant at first to tell her about Yuka; about what happened. But then I did. I am not sure why. Maybe I just needed to talk it out. Maybe I thought it was the right thing to do. Maybe I felt she deserved to know. Whatever the reason, I did it.

You’d think that it’d be something of a shock hearing your daughter tell you about that time she was possessed by the ghost of a woman who was brutally tortured and murdered at the hands of a demonic spirit, but the number of times I’ve seen mom be surprised by something falls in the low single digits. She was all casual, as if this sort of thing just happens. Oh, you were possessed by a spirit, were you? Was she nice?

I told her about the dreams, the images, the whispers, the memories that weren’t mine, and about the effect it had on me.

“What bothers me most is that I knew what I was doing. I made those choices. She wasn’t forcing me to do anything.”

Mom was silent for a while. Then she shook her head sadly and said, “Did you really believe you could do this thing without getting your hands dirty? Is that what you thought?”

“What? No! Of course not! It’s just…I don’t want that to define me. I guess.”

“Stop pretending the ‘how’ matters. Whether you kill someone yourself, or merely help your friends to, in the end dead is dead. This line you’ve drawn…it doesn’t really exist.”

“I don’t believe that.”

She shrugged. “And that’s why you’re struggling. Just accept the fact that some lives are so corrupt that they’re not worth saving.”

“That’s rationalizing, mom. It’s how zealots justify crusades.”

“Isn’t that what this is?”

These were not the words of encouragement I was expecting to hear.

Pharast 31, 4713 (morning, Forest of Spirits)

Complicated plans are kind of a thing with us, though this time it’s born out of necessity. We have sixteen former prisoners that we can’t take with us to Minkai, and a mountain of stuff to sell. Dasi thinks we can settle the former in Muliwan while he works on finding buyers for the latter, so that’s what we’re going to do.

Obviously, we’re going to use magic because backtracking in the caravan will take too long, and unlike yesterday we don’t need to go all at once. Over the course of the next couple of days I’ll teleport our settlers there in small groups. Dasi will come with me on the first trip so he can get things rolling. Some of the others, including Ameiko and Shalelu, want to go into town for a couple of days, too, so Qatana will bring them in using a spell that lets you travel on the wind. When they’re ready to come back to the caravan I’ll take them on one of the return teleports.

Got all that? Clear as mud, right?

I can do two round trips in a day, unless of course there’s a mishap. I’ll take the scrolls with me in case that happens at the end as the last thing I need is to get stuck over night, alone, in some random part of the Forest or Hongal because I botched the landing.

(morning, some random part of Hongal)

Shit.

Pharast 28, 4713 (evening, The Penance)

There is nothing to do here but sit and wait. And, I suppose, prepare for the next day, but that is just one of many hours that we have to pass. So most of us are making ourselves busy. We’ve gotten good at making ourselves busy. We had months of practice.

Ivan set up some traps around the collapsed bridge while I and a couple of others searched the artwork for…anything, really. Clues or hints or some sort of story that might tell us what we are facing. My hope was that this would be a pictorial history of the Five Storms, but there is no story here. The vast majority of it is simply fantasies put to stone and ink: depictions of hobgoblins torturing humans, conquering humans, performing unspeakable acts against humans, all intermingled with images of oni doing much the same, with an obvious obsession for Minkai. They don’t just desire it, they lust after it, and that lust is on display in every square inch of these walls. I’ve seen such an excess of depravity in so little time that I have become numb to it.

One pillar in the hall did stand out, though. Instead of the usual violent and obscene portents, it depicted five oni. The one at the top was the largest and most distinct, very clearly a wind yai looming over the others. Below that were three more oni, more heavily stylized but almost certainly yai of some sort. And at the bottom sat the unmistakable, but heavily stylized, image of Munasukaru.

What does this tell us? For one, it’s pretty obvious where Munasukaru stands, and that’s “at the bottom”. As we’ve long suspected, we will be facing the runt of the litter here shortly. It also suggests that the leadership of the Five Storms might, literally, be five oni. Whether that’s just a coincidence or the name is intentionally descriptive is anyone’s guess, though common sense would suggest it’s the former (If it was the latter and you had to add a sixth oni to the leadership ranks how exactly would that work? Do you have to rename the organization? Print all new business cards? Change the company letterhead?) But then again, common sense has not exactly been a theme so far.

The image at the top also, rather heavily, implies that a wind yai oni sits in the coveted executive position. That…is bad news. The yai take the form of giants, generally those with a connection to one of the elements. Giants based on air tend to be tougher than their brethren, so if that holds with oni, too, then there is that to worry about.

For now, though, the focus is on tomorrow. None of us likes the idea of blindly dropping through the drain at the base of the steps. That means scouting ahead, and the safest way to do that is with the spell I used to explore the pagoda (gods, was that just two days ago?) That means an early start to the day, as Qatana will need to know what we are facing before she begins what passes as prayers to Groetus. And, no, you don’t want to know.

There was this moment when she and I were hovering over the drain, staring down into the darkness. The sound of rushing water echoed around us and it was almost hypnotic. I could feel myself being swallowed by the inky void, the din of the cascading water fading as I descended.

Qatana’s voice snapped me back to the present. “You haven’t had to pee in years.”

And it was such a random, bizarre statement—directed at no one because we were the only ones there, and she wasn’t talking to me—that I reflexively looked over at her. She was still hovering at my side; still staring down into the hole below. She must have noticed my surprise and confusion as she met my gaze and said, simply, “Beorn”.

“Ah.”

She kept mice more or less as pets when she was living in Magnimar. I say “more or less” because that sounds more formal than it was. It’s more like, she was living somewhere and that somewhere had mice and so she had mice. She talked to them when they were alive, and she still talks to them now. Each of them has a distinct personality: Beorn is aggressive and unpredictable, Star is equally aggressive but rude, Badger is sneaky, Huffy is friendly, and so on. Sometimes she asks them for advice, sometimes they just offer it up. It…took some getting used to as she has these conversations out loud. At the start of this it was more than a little unsettling, but now it’s just Qatana.

Are her mice really talking to her, or are these voices just aspects of her personality asserting themselves? In other words, is she being driven mad, or is this her madness? I don’t know, and I am not even sure the two are mutually exclusive. But, my suspicion is that those who seek out Groetus either are mad to begin with, or are driven so by his providence. The price of drawing spiritual power from him is to make that madness essentially incurable. Cutting it away from Qatana would be excising a significant part of her identity and existence. We’ve certainly been witness to our share of the fantastic and paranormal on a scale where Qatana’s affliction is mere noise. So here we are.

What does it say about us that all this passes as normal?

Pharast 29, 4713 (early morning, The Penance)

We have a much clearer picture of where we are headed. With my spell, I was able to explore three chambers below us until the eye could go no further. I sketched a rough map for my friends based on what I saw, pointing out potential hazards and foes. Now we’re just waiting for Qatana to prepare her spells.

We were right to worry about water. That much seemed obvious already but I always welcome validation where it can be found. In the cavern directly below us the water is only a foot deep, but it drains into another where it’s easily four to five. The former is merely an inconvenience, but the latter is trouble. Or would be, if we didn’t know in advance.

Even without the water it’s going to be a challenging descent. I could see two ja noi oni in the first cavern, torturing human or humanoid prisoners held in cages that are suspended from the ceiling. These oni are almost certainly more of Munasukaru’s spawn, much like Ichirou (though possibly not as spineless). In the second cavern I saw two naga that must be her daughters swimming in the water. Or undulating. Or whatever it is that snakes with human heads do in water. They are more dangerous than their oni brothers; before we face them that water will have to go.

The final chamber is actually a room of carved stone. The water from above doesn’t drain there, but it leaks in through the ceiling so the floor and walls are wet. More problematic than wet floors: the near end of the chamber is crisscrossed with metal chains and blue-skinned human-like beings lurk among them.

Kytons.

You can’t spend time in Shelyn’s church without learning about her brother and the thing he has become. While not all kytons are his servants, there are common themes of torture, mutilation, and an affinity for chains. That is enough of an overlap to get my attention. I don’t know what arrangement Munasukaru has with these things but I don’t really care: they have to go, too.

At the far end I saw prisoners hung in metal gibbets along the walls. I couldn’t tell if they are dead or alive. That is…not a good sign, and it’s put me in a somber mood. Some of the others, too.

This will be over soon.

(continued)

Munasukaru tried to buy us off. Or rather, a ja noi oni samurai that claimed to speak for Munasukaru tried to buy us off. That tells me two things. First, Munasukaru is clearly concerned because otherwise why even ask? Every single oni we’ve encountered so far, including to some extent Ichirou, has bordered on egomaniacal and you don’t try to cut a deal when you’re convinced you’re winning (or too stupid to realize that you’re not). Second, she doesn’t understand us at all. Which, I suppose, is not too surprising. From what we’ve seen so far, rational thought was an early casualty here.

Just in case we were morally bankrupt, we were offered riches and rewards once Minkai falls to the Five Storms. What riches and rewards? Her spokesperson didn’t provide details, but I imagine we can take hints from the decor.

It actually took some nerve to stage a formal ceremony in the middle of a gods-be-damned torture chamber in order to make the offer, especially mere seconds after a cloud of poisonous gas had rolled over them (I’ve been having fun). If I was in their position I’d not be in the mood for diplomacy after that, which suggests Munasukaru has a pretty strong grip on her faithful. I can almost hear her saying, “Suck it up.”

Dasi responded that we represent the Amatatsu family. That put an abrupt end to the negotiations. Then Ivan put four arrows in the oni, putting an equally abrupt end to Munasukaru’s State Department. Cleaning up the kytons and the hobgoblins took a little longer, but only because there were more of them.

Four of the prisoners hanging from the gibbets were still alive. Like the others, we can heal their wounds but there’s nothing we can do for their memories.

Pharast 28, 4713 (early afternoon, The Penance)

The farther in we go, the more I see the echoes of a long-lost grandeur. I hesitate to describe anything the Five Storms have touched as magnificent, but this place has the feel of a once-great hall deep into its decay. How long were they held prisoner here? Hundreds of years? Thousands? That is a lot of time to excavate. The rubble in the hall suggests there was a collapse at some point. How much more was there? Are we just scratching the surface?

What did they do here? Did they entertain visitors? The kami said they were forbidden from leaving, but it was a prison with no guards save for the complicated rules that kept the oni from leaving. There was nothing stopping outsiders from coming and going as they pleased. You could build an empire that way.

It really begs the question, “why so lax?” Was it assumed the oni would just sit in here and rot for all of eternity? Clearly they had other plans. Whoever created their jail (and more crucially, this arrangement) was afflicted with a startling lack of imagination. And Minkai is paying the price.

Whatever this place once was it’s more mausoleum now; a crumbling monument to another time. It’s dark, dank and depressing. Even the oni that remain are depressing. The guardian of this checkpoint, as he called it, was as decrepit as the hall itself, though at least he was reasonably aware of the pathetic nature of his role. There was this moment when I was invisible, hovering just close enough to see him when he called out to us in the darkness. Qatana, for her part, managed a very credible impression of Ichirou’s voice and insisted on passing through. He tried to talk “Ichirou” out of this decision, reminding him what had happened the last time he’d visited his sisters. When “Ichirou” insisted on going anyway, he buried his head in his hands and just shook it sadly.

Can you imagine? Proud samurai Oni of the Five Storms, reduced to babysitting. Such tales of glory and fortune he must have had.

Wretched though he was, he was in our way. And he was mounted on a gorgon because of course he was, which also made him dangerous. We went for a reprise of yesterday’s trick: Qatana cast her spell, I walled them off behind a barrier of ice (because they can’t fly), and we let them beat each other to death while we took pot shots with arrows and bombs.

His living quarters was the height of elegance with its lice-infested bed and living, wall-to-wall carpet of beetles. I swear I am not making that last one up. What was even keeping them there? This place keeps challenging my notion of “the worst thing I have ever seen”. Repeatedly. It is not supposed to be a competition.

Speaking of “worst thing I have ever seen”, the decor in this hall includes an image of a hobgoblin nursing two snakes. Just in case there was any doubt about that.

(midafternoon)

One down, one to go: we found the bonsai tree, discarded and forgotten in a dark storage room that is leading the race to dilapidation. Like everything else here the tree is barely clinging to life, probably from days or weeks without sunlight. If it wasn’t for the water leaking through the walls and ceiling it probably would have withered and died.

Yet again, I am left wondering what the plan was here. Why bring a plant—one which quite obviously needs sunlight to live—to a place completely steeped in darkness? How were they planning on keeping it alive? The only light in here is in the fire pit, and even if that were sufficient it’s two stories up. The would-be gardener was obviously not thinking this one through.

Now that the tree is safely in our possession maybe we can afford to be more indiscriminate in our methods. (OK, fine, we were hardly careful up in the pagoda. But there were no hobgoblins there, and no hobgoblins meant no tree. It was solid logic, and as it happens, we were right.)  Or maybe not. Yuka’s memories suggest Munasukaru gets personally involved when it comes to her prisoners, and that means there may be some down below. I’m guessing we’ll have to do this the hard way.

I probably should have thought of that sooner, before I sent a cloud of poisonous gas down that hallway. Fortunately, it was just a few hobgoblins, a hill giant, and these bizarre lizard things that were far more dangerous than anything else we’ve come across. Which makes me think they weren’t part of the original plan. That, and the pile of hobgoblin bones. They reminded me of that thing that attacked us up in the arctic. These lizards were blind, too, and they tore into us with huge blasts of sound. Except like everything else down here, they couldn’t fly (so maybe they were part of the original plan after all?)

Gods, it’s been a long day. I am spent. Qatana looks exhausted. Dasi’s voice sounds like it’s going out. We even lost Zosi’s puppets: they tried to walk across the bottom of the lake and something—we never saw what, but it was something big—extirpated them. They are utterly gone; there aren’t even any remains! I shudder to think what must be in that murky water that’s capable of (I assume) swallowing them whole. The pool is closed until further notice.

This underscores how unprepared we’ve been for water. We’ve mostly avoided it so far but it’s been a consistent theme and I wonder if our current tactics will hold. At the end of that hallway, where the lizards were, water pours in through cracks in the cavern walls and flows down the steps into a drain at its base. Which means we will have water to contend with down below, too. What if there’s something in the water that we have to confront?

The good new is that we have a few hours to figure this out as we are going to shelter in this hall for the rest of the day while we recover. Is this safe? Not really. Is there someplace safer? Not really. Not unless we want to leave and come back, which seems particularly unwise. If anything tries to come up from below, or descend from above, we need to be here for it.