Heavenfall

The court this afternoon was host to a dark-eyed, solemn man in the blue and white of the new Crane clan. He was seated near to the east wall of the chamber, a bit of wood in one hand and a knife in the other. At times gently and at times forcefully he drew the knife across the surface of the wood. The new writing began to form. His eyes drifted closed; knife and hand continued their work.

Haka enters the court room, drawn by the sound of someone carving into wood. She lingers near the door, long white hair pulled back in braids and her patchwork dress making faint clattering sounds as the wards and charms hanging from it bumped together with each step. Her eyes were clouded and white, and they turned toward Kaze as she waited near the entrance, listening.

The Crane's work stopped at the first clatter, and for a breath he silently observed this strange figure at the door.

There was a light clack as he set down the block, then a rustling sound as he rose from his seat and bowed formally. The rules were to be observed, after all.

When he spoke, it was with a dry rasp that cut through the void of the chamber.

"Ohayou, stranger. This one is Doji Kaze of the Lady's Clan--the Crane."

He fell silent and went still, waiting for the response that might produce.

The woman frowns and makes a warding gesture. "There are people known as Shoji Haka," she says, slowly making her way toward the voice, steps small to avoid tripping over an unseen obstacle. "You should not refer to yourself by name, woodcarver. That is how they get you."

Kaze frowned, then took one step back to place a hand on his yari, quickly scanning the room for others, ears straining for any hint of sound.

"They?"

"Ghosts. Spirits. The unquiet dead." She stops walking, her head tilting slightly to one side, as if attempting to listen to a distant sound.

"It seems the woodcarver was lucky," she says after a moment, a faint smile appearing on her lips. "I have not been able to find any wards on this castle, but perhaps they are merely hidden to me." There's a gesture to her eyes. "Has the woodcarver seen any?"

He pondered that for a moment, bringing the yari from its position on the wall to its more comforting position firmly in his hands.

"No." He said at last. "These people trust to their arms and their backs. It seems to be Lord Hida's way."

His hands tightened on the grip of the spear. "Your words give me...pause." That was the word. The precise word. "You are often seeing these...ghosts?" His voice ticked upward to signify a question lying in wait where a statement was thought to dwell.

"More often that this one wishes," she admits. "It is good that Haka has come to these lands. The people here seem ignorant of many things. Just as my people are ignorant of the thing called bathhouse."

She holds her hand out toward him. "Would the woodcarver escort this one to a safe place to seat herself? This one would not wish to bump into his project and knock it over."

Kaze blinked. She disparaged her tribe. He filed that away. She disparaged the host. That, too, found a file. She thought him a woodcarver first. That...was a misconception he could live with, with a slight modification.

The butt of the spear found the floor as he stepped forward to take her arm and lead her to a seat near to the rear wall of the court. "The wood merely holds the Words. There is not much to topple. A small thing." He fell silent for a moment. "But one does not permit an...acquaintance to stumble."

"The woodcarver is kind," she says, taking a seat in the indicated place. She spends a few moments getting comfortable, then carefully places two small straw dolls to either side of her.

"What words are being carved?" she asks, looking back in his direction. "Words of the Crane? That is a bird, yes?"

"Hai, a bird, but in the sense of which we are speaking, it is a metaphor for a sort-of tribe called a clan and how their Lady would like them to be. The words, though, they are...precise and true and arranged to please or to challenge the senses. Or the mind. Both, really."

He remained standing. No use messing around while there might be ghosts about. Spears are hard to use when sitting down.

Eyebrows raise. "The lady wishes for her people to be as birds? Is she trying to teach her people how to fly?" Haka had heard stories about the Kami during her journey south, but this one was definitely impressing her. "Has the woodcarver learned to fly? Did he carve wings of wood?"

"Ie, No, not to fly. Other attributes."

He chuckled quietly.

"I have carved a few wings, but they cannot help to fly." He peered down at the dolls. "Did you make these?"

"Ah," she says, sounding disappointed. "What are the qualities of a crane? This one does not know this bird. It is like a bird that taps at the wood of trees very quickly, perhaps?"

At mention of the dolls, she nods. "Yes, this one made these. Ghosts have trouble discerning humans from things that look like humans. So now, if ghost appears and tries to attack one of those speaking, there is a better chance of escape, as it might attack fetich instead of those speaking." Haka smiles as she taps each doll on the head. "Larger ones work better, but they are more difficult for travel. They don't work too well if a ghost knows one's name, though, because dolls do not have names."

"A Crane is...graceful. And precise in its hunting. It strikes down from its height. It is a tall bird."

Kaze was surprised at the name bit, though.

"Dolls have no name? Not even if you give them names?"

"Ah, graceful. Thank you, that makes more sense." She was absolutely imagining something that had almost nothing in common with an actual crane.

As for the question, she shrugs slightly. "Not usually. If ghost hears the name of a doll, it might start lingering near it. That could be useful for the ones deeper in the forest, where you want the ghosts to remain, but then someone would have to go speak the name at the doll, which is more dangerous than it might be worth." She taps a finger against her chin thoughtfully. "Though, one time, this one wandered too close to a ghost she did not sense and could only escape by shouting "Run, Chiyo!" and throwing a doll in the other direction. The ghost did not catch this one, so perhaps it worked?"

Haka motions in the vague direction of the wood. "Can the woodcarver excite this one with the words of his wood? Or is it a more lewd type of excitement?"

"Sometimes it is not excitement, but sadness, or humor." He shrugs, the rustling of fabric betraying the motion.

"Southern sultriness:
Sere, delicate northern silk
Heavy with the damp"

Haka listens and thinks, her expression thoughtful. "Yes, that is a bit sad," she finally admits. "The... arrangement? is strange as well. Is that intentional?"

"Hai, it is called a form. It imposes an order on the words, allows them to resonate. There are others, but this one is growing more popular in the north."

"Is it?" An eyebrow raises. "The Crane speak like this all the time?"