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One fine day, an ornate scroll found it's way, from Kara-Tur courier to Sundren courier, all the way to on Mirumoto Akagi. The scroll was very thick, indicating many pages rolled within, and tied in a gentle knot with a red and black standard. Sealed with the stamp of a scorpion on wavy waters, it was obvious who had sent this, but not why.
Opened to delicate hand-writing, small and precise, the scroll begins...
Honorable Mirumoto of the House Akagi...
If this scroll is in your possession, then congratulations are in order: You have felled a hated enemy to your Clan and your familial House, and settled a debt. I am certain the accolades accorded you are great and that you have brought great honor to your Clan, your House, and even your Mistress.
It is with the deepest regrets, however, that I inform you that your brother's murder still remains unavenged. You see, he was not slain by mine own hand, nor the hand of any Bayushi. His murderer was not Scorpion, nor Ninja, nor even a Shou.
The one who murdered your brother was a gaijin Yakuza associate it. A killer of great skill, he is no less of a confidence artist, a consummate liar without conscience, a master manipulator and seductionist. He is bold and reckless in the manner you Samurai favor, though he respects nothing and no one save his own selfish whims.
Have you guessed the identity of the man I speak?
When we found him...
To call the scents one encounters traversing the solitary dungeon cells of Neverwinter Prison repugnant is to insult any to whom repugnant would truly apply. Unacquainted to such a assault upon the olfactory senses, the Shou Noble carried on her person a tissued laced with camphor oil to ward off the gag-inducing miasma of urine, feces, sweat, and less readily identifiable odors.
The pair of prison guards escorting her were used to the smell, and if either of her personal half-orc protectors noticed, they made no mention of it. Arriving at the end of the cell block and peering in to the last solitary cell, they were greeted with the appearance of an attractive, shirtless man. He bore the scars of many knife-fights and a tribal-in-appearance tattoo of a snake swallowing it's own tail.
His hair was the brown of ripe pecan hulls and his eyes were the cerulean of unmurky sea waters, and he seemed almost too comfortable in this hellish place for one so aesthetically pleasing. He performed some layman exercises, sweat glistening upon the cordy muscles of his slight-but-crafted physique. His cerulean eyes met the jade orbs of the Shou Noble with the intensity of a rampaging umber hulk.
"Marcus. Tyler." he spoke to the guards in a soft, not too deep tone, "You could've warned me I was to expect company. Especially one so beautiful as she." He never broke eye contact with her until the cudgel of one of the guards struck the finely-crafted bars with a resounding "dong." "S'enough outta yeh, Cazen, ye feckless cur." said the less attractive of the guards, Marcus.
Marcus looked to the Shou Noble, "S'ry, Lady Bayooshi. Smoove talker, this'un. Lull's ye before 'e strikes...like'a pit-viper, I reckon." He seemed proud of his analogy. The more attractive of the guards, Tyler, shook his head. "Got some will to 'em, he does. Never confessed to a single crime." Marcus spat, "Bollywock! Ain't ne'er give 'em a proper brainin'. See how quiet he is when 'is pretty face's all broke up."
Cazen smirked, looking to Marcus and Tyler. "What you gentlemen can't seem to understand is the arrangement I have with the Warden. He realizes I'm more...useful to him, fully functioning. If he has a problem guest, I take care of it..." He looked back to the Shou Noble. "Quickly. Quietly. Permanently."
We paid a heft sum to the Warden of Neverwinter Prison, and we left with Cazen that day. Though he was gaijin, he was beautiful and charming, not to mention talented and a skilled combatant. He gave his age as 20, that day. My personal inquiries to him brought a grandiose story of his mother deceiving him and his killing both his parents.
As far as my sources were ever able to uncover, the only truth to that tale was that his real father is unknown. Roman Kross and Estellana were small time hoods that worked for greater masters. Roman drove a caravan across Faerun, leading in the delivery of contraband items. Estellana was a brilliant book-keeper and low-status arcane practitioner.
Both we found dead, several summers ago, killed by unknown assailants as they slept.
The reason for Cazen's incarceration in Neverwinter Prison was never given, not even by the Warden. The Warden did make mention that Cazen had a sister, somewhere. She seems to mean more to him than his own life. He would do anything to protect her, and has shown me as much.
Cazen worked for me, personally, for years prior to his arrival in Sundren. The reason he left was simple: he stole something from me. I cannot force you to believe this story is true, Mirumoto, but I swear upon the sacred name of Shinsei that of all the deceit I've offered in my life, these words offered in death, are the truth.
Honorable in death,
Bayushi Ami
Opened to delicate hand-writing, small and precise, the scroll begins...
Honorable Mirumoto of the House Akagi...
If this scroll is in your possession, then congratulations are in order: You have felled a hated enemy to your Clan and your familial House, and settled a debt. I am certain the accolades accorded you are great and that you have brought great honor to your Clan, your House, and even your Mistress.
It is with the deepest regrets, however, that I inform you that your brother's murder still remains unavenged. You see, he was not slain by mine own hand, nor the hand of any Bayushi. His murderer was not Scorpion, nor Ninja, nor even a Shou.
The one who murdered your brother was a gaijin Yakuza associate it. A killer of great skill, he is no less of a confidence artist, a consummate liar without conscience, a master manipulator and seductionist. He is bold and reckless in the manner you Samurai favor, though he respects nothing and no one save his own selfish whims.
Have you guessed the identity of the man I speak?
When we found him...
To call the scents one encounters traversing the solitary dungeon cells of Neverwinter Prison repugnant is to insult any to whom repugnant would truly apply. Unacquainted to such a assault upon the olfactory senses, the Shou Noble carried on her person a tissued laced with camphor oil to ward off the gag-inducing miasma of urine, feces, sweat, and less readily identifiable odors.
The pair of prison guards escorting her were used to the smell, and if either of her personal half-orc protectors noticed, they made no mention of it. Arriving at the end of the cell block and peering in to the last solitary cell, they were greeted with the appearance of an attractive, shirtless man. He bore the scars of many knife-fights and a tribal-in-appearance tattoo of a snake swallowing it's own tail.
His hair was the brown of ripe pecan hulls and his eyes were the cerulean of unmurky sea waters, and he seemed almost too comfortable in this hellish place for one so aesthetically pleasing. He performed some layman exercises, sweat glistening upon the cordy muscles of his slight-but-crafted physique. His cerulean eyes met the jade orbs of the Shou Noble with the intensity of a rampaging umber hulk.
"Marcus. Tyler." he spoke to the guards in a soft, not too deep tone, "You could've warned me I was to expect company. Especially one so beautiful as she." He never broke eye contact with her until the cudgel of one of the guards struck the finely-crafted bars with a resounding "dong." "S'enough outta yeh, Cazen, ye feckless cur." said the less attractive of the guards, Marcus.
Marcus looked to the Shou Noble, "S'ry, Lady Bayooshi. Smoove talker, this'un. Lull's ye before 'e strikes...like'a pit-viper, I reckon." He seemed proud of his analogy. The more attractive of the guards, Tyler, shook his head. "Got some will to 'em, he does. Never confessed to a single crime." Marcus spat, "Bollywock! Ain't ne'er give 'em a proper brainin'. See how quiet he is when 'is pretty face's all broke up."
Cazen smirked, looking to Marcus and Tyler. "What you gentlemen can't seem to understand is the arrangement I have with the Warden. He realizes I'm more...useful to him, fully functioning. If he has a problem guest, I take care of it..." He looked back to the Shou Noble. "Quickly. Quietly. Permanently."
We paid a heft sum to the Warden of Neverwinter Prison, and we left with Cazen that day. Though he was gaijin, he was beautiful and charming, not to mention talented and a skilled combatant. He gave his age as 20, that day. My personal inquiries to him brought a grandiose story of his mother deceiving him and his killing both his parents.
As far as my sources were ever able to uncover, the only truth to that tale was that his real father is unknown. Roman Kross and Estellana were small time hoods that worked for greater masters. Roman drove a caravan across Faerun, leading in the delivery of contraband items. Estellana was a brilliant book-keeper and low-status arcane practitioner.
Both we found dead, several summers ago, killed by unknown assailants as they slept.
The reason for Cazen's incarceration in Neverwinter Prison was never given, not even by the Warden. The Warden did make mention that Cazen had a sister, somewhere. She seems to mean more to him than his own life. He would do anything to protect her, and has shown me as much.
Cazen worked for me, personally, for years prior to his arrival in Sundren. The reason he left was simple: he stole something from me. I cannot force you to believe this story is true, Mirumoto, but I swear upon the sacred name of Shinsei that of all the deceit I've offered in my life, these words offered in death, are the truth.
Honorable in death,
Bayushi Ami