A laugh came from the Shaman's throat. A click of teeth soon after. "I'll keep my concerns where they please me, Ironborn," he asserted.

His eyes fell to the sword at her hip, as he slung his bow over his shoulder. The Iron Clan had less qualms when it came to using the long blade of death. Though, the Mist were known for their mercurial disposition.

"Kazumichi is of my Clan," he stated firmly. "Do you go around killing those of the Iron without any regard for the weight of their blood? The measure of their spirit?" he he shook his head, clicked his teeth once more, crossed his arms behind his back. "Suppose it makes no differnece one way or the other," his lips spread to a grin, but his eyes were hard with anger.

He turned toward the building, and the scrawl of characters and script that sealed the side of the buildings wall. A boundary that trapped the spirits within.

Inside, a paper talisman struck the side of one wall. Its scrawl of lettering glowed feint blue, though the center eye came shut and pulsed purple.

Kazumichi's eyes widened. His breath shortened as he came to a stop.

"Ay, what is it there, mist dog?" the dwarf narrowed her eyes.

Silence.

Motioned to Feng, who frowned, nod, and lumbered over. A heavy hand thump across Kazumichi's shoulder. "Did you not hear the boss?"

1752813709907.webpThe Mist Shaman's eyes came shut. "Aembi is here,"

"What?"

A low rumble quaked through the interior of the building. Rattled the bones beneath their flesh.

Feng near fell down. The dwarf clung to Long's leg, and Kazumichi stood still, with a talisman drawn betwixt his fingers. His breath calm. Steady.
 
Not a word came out of Juusha as the old shaman hurled his accusations at her. His questions were not ones worth answering. She had not become a Repentant because of her skill with a sword alone.

An Iron shaman could not draw their sword, without knowing the weight of the life they took. It was simply not possible.

Remaining silent. Juusha scowled as they came upon the entrance of the warehouse. She looked up at the aging structure, saw the script burned there in one of the tall columns.

Then, she stepped through the threshold.


The main entrance room was empty. The other hunters must have already ventured further into the interior, in their search for the spirit. Echoing footsteps took her across the abandoned room. Multiple floors of rooms towered above them, connected by a coiling staircase. The center of the building was open, revealing the railings of each floor, and high above sunlight filtered through cracks in the roof.

A rumble shook the rafters above. Dust fell in fat flakes, as decades of disuse were disturbed by new movement. Gnawing hunger filled Juusha's gut. She felt as if she had been full before, and a shadow now loomed, reaching out to take something away from her.

Her heart quickened, and her hand went to the other sword, the shorter blade with the gold tassel. Stuck fast in its sheathe. She spun in place, and saw nothing, the shadow only growing stronger. Then, a door slipped open and shut deeper into the compound, and the feeling passed.

A breath of air left Juusha's lungs. Not really there at all, she suspected. The strength of Aembi's will would already be twisting this space to fit its needs. She turned again to speak to Miya, only to find the man already gone. She clicked her tongue, and continued on alone.

"I should have asked him about Aembi's shape," she said to herself as she ascended the first flight of stairs. A trail of paper talismans told her where to go. "He seemed like he knew."
 
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