Homecoming Part 1

 Besides rescuing Irak, Ginjo and Sukh recovered an abundance of treasure from the Death Cult. Ginjo resolved to visit his family and make a suitable gift, so that he might share the honor he had recently received with the people who had given him life and a disciplined upbringing.  His family was comfortable and prosperous; they owned good farmland, which they leased to about twenty families.  But this land was far from the comforts of civilization and surrounded by untamed jungle.  As landowners, his family bore the responsibility of protecting the farmers from both he beasts of the jungle and the hunter tribes who did not respect the labor of the farmer.   Ginjo knew that gifts of gold coins from faraway places, sparkling gemstones, and fine silks would bring some excitement to lives that were honorable, but often difficult. Sukh was glad to accompany his comrade, as were Sheng, Shek, Irak, and a few other sohei.  They traveled to the backcountry in a heavy-laden small flat boat, paddling upriver over a few days.  

They reached the homestead at the end of the day and found it bathed in an orange glow. A beautiful sunset? Perhaps, but the column of dark smoke and sound of screaming told Ginjo that his family was under attack.  Rushing to their aid, the party was attacked by a large group of well-armed hunters.  Ginjo and Sukh held them off while their associates carried their burdens through the gates of the fortified homestead. 

Once the party was safely inside, they met Ginjo's uncle Pau-Lung who briefly explained the situation. The forest hunters had long been a problem for the Kwam-Rak since they saw little difference between gathering wild fruits and stealing bags of rice, shooting a deer and shooting someone's milking goat. But this was different.  More than a raid, these were organized war parties, from at least two different tribes, with vicious dogs, flaming arrows, and incessant drumming.  One wall had been breached, several farmers had been killed, the other tenants were huddled inside the main house.

Ginjo asked to lead the defense of the walls, leaving Pau-Lung and the Kwam-Rak family to protect their tenants. Having seen Ginjo's battle prowess, Pau-Lung agreed.

Night fell.  Outside the Kwam-Rak stronghold, and screened by the trees, bonfires burned on all four sides.  The various groups of hunter-raiders took turns chanting and drumming, their menacing conversation denying anyone inside the stronghold the comfort of sleep.  Close to midnight, Sukh, from his rooftop watchpoint, called the alarm.  The hunters were making a two-pronged attack, charging two places where the stockade wall had already been breached.  Sukh led Sheng and Shek in repelling the attackers with arrows while Ginjo and Irak led the sohei in defending the breaches.  The wild and undisciplined hunters were surprised and dismayed to meet such well-armed and courageous defenders.  Those who evaded Sukh’s arrows suffered Ginjo’s blade.  The balance were routed and the forest to the south side of stockade fell quiet.

The Hunter-Raiders made several other sorties throughout the night, but all were soundly repelled.  Pau-Lung hinted that attackers were under the sway of a sinister force from outside the area.  Attacks by giant bats shortly before dawn seemed to confirm.  The raiders’ final attack, using ladders to scale the stockade wall was fearsome, but reckless, showing a disregard for self-preservation on the part of the attackers that left the defenders feeling uneasy even in their victory.  What was driving these men to throw away their lives?

Pau-Lung believed he knew the answer.  Several weeks ago, a merchant had arrived.  He was given a warm welcome.  The Kwam-Rak family had little contact with the outside world so any visitor brought the promise of exciting news about faraway places and this merchant with his rich and outlandish clothes, foreign manners, and retinue of quiet servants was especially captivating.  There was some disappointment when they learned he had little to sell and even more when they learned he had almost nothing to tell.  While obviously learned, he seemed to know nothing about the goings on in Pasar or any other town and had no opinion on the war between the Zhou empires.  Instead he asked questions and his questions soon proved intrusive and oddly knowing.  He believed that the Kwam-Rak family was in possession was in possession of a mysterious carpet with a unique design, an abstract pattern that “becomes nearly recognizable if you stare at it long enough, like a landscape visited in a dream.”  Pau-Lung could not deny that he knew of such a carpet, but refused to consider any offers to sell it, even refused to discuss its whereabouts.  No one had ever seen Pau-Lung so distraught, but the man smiled, promising to return later, “after you’ve had some time to consider all the advantages of letting it go and the disadvantages of keeping it.”

Pau-Lung explained that he did in fact own a mysterious carpet.  He had only seen it once.  His father had show it to him, told him the story of its origin and the reason why it must be kept within the family.

Generations ago, the Kwam-Rak family had been simple jungle hunters.  They were not even a family for they had no name, no land, no legacy.  But the first Kwam-Rak had met a strange creature in the forest and agreed to share his honey with it.  In honor of his hospitality, the creature taught the first Kwam-Rak all the secrets of agriculture, building, metal-working, and more, even house to read, write, and play music.  With the help of this benefactor, the first Kwam-Rak had cleared a plot of fertile land, built a solid house and established himself as the first of his people.  The benefactor promised Kwam-Rak that his family would hold the land in perpetuity.  In return, he only must promise to keep safe a beautiful carpet of exquisite design.  He could not allow it to be harmed and could not sell it or give it to anyone outside the family. 

“Ginjo, you have chosen another life.  Your brother is a good farmer and a good manager.  He will inherit the land, the farm, and family’s wealth.  But you will receive the family’s most precious legacy.  Take it far away from here.  When the stranger returns, I will show him the presents you gave us and tell him that I sold it.  And I know that he will force me to tell him where you have gone, so tell me what I should tell him and nothing more.”

Ginjo agreed to take the carpet.  Pau-Lung gave it to wrapped in rough cloth and asked him not to look at it until he had gone somewhere far away.

Ginjo spent the next few days resting and relaxing with his family.  He learned that his niece Phubi had received the gift of insight and healing.  Pau-Lung asked Ginjo to take her with him.  “She is young, but brave, and the good spirits will not allow her to come to any harm.  Protect her and allow her to protect you.”

Ginjo, Sukh, and their associates left the Kwam-Rak stronghold and went to Pasar, and to the Monastery of the Two-Fold Path.  Ginjo and Sukh secured themselves in their quarters and unwrapped the carpet.  As described, its design was abstract, bearing lines and shapes and fields of colors in no clear pattern.  What had not been described was the border of red with golden letters that Ginjo recognized as the Bakemono language.

The Caves of Inharmonious Discord, Part 8 (Two Prisoners)

The next day, the party returned to the shrine of the Death Cult. They were met by one of the adepts and eight skeletons. Seeing the four bakemono, the adept asked the party to wait while he summoned the supreme leader. As soon as the adept was out of sight, Ginjo attacked the skeletons, swiftly dispatching two of them. The rest of the party joined him in laying the bones definitively to rest; then they quickly made their way to the receiving room where they had met the supreme leader the previous day.

When they arrived, four adepts were busy summoning a large group of skeletons and zombies. Ginjo led the attack against the adepts and their minions, while Sukh, accompanied by Shek and Sheng, tore through a series of smaller rooms until they found the supreme leader in his private chambers, starting to don his armor. Relying on his evil powers, he was able to incapacitate Sheng and Shek, but Sukh fought with determination and courage, slashing at him with his sword and smashing up the furniture while driving him forcefully into a corner and killing him.

Out in the reception room, Ginjo concentrated his attacks on the adepts while the sohei fought the skeletons and zombies. Using superior tactics, four of the sohei held the bulk of the mindless undead at bay, allowing only one or two to fight at a time so they could be destroyed by the others.

When the battles were over, the party declared an uneasy victory. The supreme leader was dead, and most, if not all, of his minions had been destroyed. But there was no sign of Irak. While debating what to do next, who should run into the room but their “friend” Pana. His robe was torn and his face bruised.

“They’re coming!” he cried. “The other priests! They’re going to kill us all!”

Sukh pointed his sword at Pana’s throat and demanded, “Where is Irak?”
Pana didn’t want to answer—and didn’t need to. A heavy clanking sound announced the arrival of four more skeletons in rusty armor, followed by three priests in red robes and three zombies. Ginjo ordered the sohei to adopt a defensive position against the skeletons’ charge. Then he launched a counterattack, routing the three priests, whose flight was hampered by their own zombies.

In the confusion of battle, Sukh noticed that Pana had disappeared. Quickly deciding there was only one place he could have gone, Sukh dashed into the supreme leader’s chambers—sure enough, Pana was there, looting the body of his fallen master.

“It’s what he would have wanted,” Pana offered, tossing a handful of coins and gems at Sukh before pushing a panel to open a hidden passage.

Out in the hallway, the sohei destroyed the skeletons, and Ginjo killed one of the priests while the others fled. Ginjo backed away from the attacking zombies and ducked halfway behind a corner to fight them one at a time. They were much slower than his flashing blade, and he quickly cut them down.

As the last of the zombies fell to the floor, a previously hidden door opened and Pana dashed out. Ginjo brought him down with a flying tackle and began punching him while the sohei gathered to cut off any escape. Sukh emerged from the hidden passage, and the party threatened Pana with death unless he took them to Irak.

Pana agreed. He led them down a wide, echoing corridor and a flight of rough steps into a darker, cramped dungeon. The passage twisted and narrowed. He led them through a series of barred doors to a small chamber. He opened a small window so Ginjo could see the legs of a chained woman inside, then handed him a set of keys.

Ginjo opened the door and rushed in—but the woman was not Irak. She was a horrible monster with snakes for hair. Ginjo stopped himself short, but valiant Sheng met the monster’s eyes and was turned to stone.

Sukh and Shek seized Pana and pulled his arms behind his back before he could even think of fleeing. He pleaded ignorance and begged for another chance to prove himself, but with a more immediate crisis at hand, they simply held him and ignored his arguments.

The snake-woman offered the party a bargain: her freedom in exchange for the elixir that would restore Sheng. Sukh refused.

“We don’t trust you, and we won’t free you until we have the elixir.”

Ginjo resolved the stalemate by charging at her and braving the snakes until he found the elixir. They restored Sheng and left the snake-woman behind, reasoning that she could not be trusted.

Pana led them deeper into the dungeon, into a larger chamber filled with devices of torture. Irak was there. So was the torturer. He had a few words with Pana, then grabbed his axe and rushed at Ginjo. Pana called upon his dark magic and transfixed Sukh.

Ginjo dodged the torturer’s axe and drew his sword. Sheng and Shek fell upon Pana. With Sukh unable to speak and Ginjo engaged in mortal combat, there was no one to answer Pana’s last cries for mercy—and he was swiftly killed. Ginjo, bloodied and exhausted from his previous fights, might have fallen to the heavy blows of the torturer, but the sohei arrived and killed the wicked brute.

Ginjo broke the chains and freed Irak. Meanwhile, the bakemono practiced their recently learned healing arts upon Sukh and massaged his limbs until he could stand and move again.

The party carefully retraced their steps out of the dungeon and into the open air. It was late afternoon, and many of their number were in no shape for a forced march back to Pasar. They climbed higher up the canyon, far enough from the caves to feel relatively safe, and made camp. The most wounded slept while the bakemono tended to them.

In the morning, they hiked back to Pasar. The party thanked the bakemono for their assistance, and the bakemono thanked them for giving them a chance to redeem themselves. They would not return to the caves, but they knew they would not be accepted in human society either. Instead, they would build a hut deep in the forest and live out their days according to what they had learned from the kindly and forgiving Gunjar.

The Caves of Inharmonious Discord, Part 7: "This is all your handiwork"

Sukh, Ginjo, and their band—comprised of on-loan sohei and a few seasoned mercenaries—resolved to return to the cavern lair of the wicked men. This time, they came not as trespassers but with a demand: to know what had become of their missing comrade, Irak.

They were received with unsettling hospitality. The red-and-black robed men welcomed them into the cavern with smiles and gestures of goodwill. Yet behind this show of civility stood scores of undead: reanimated skeletons and corpses that lingered silently, their hollow eyes fixed and obedient. It was clear who held the true power in this place.

The cultists praised the “gifts” Sukh and Ginjo had provided—many of the undead were fallen bakemono, some recognizable as recent foes cut down by the party’s own blades. 

The cult’s leader, a gaunt man with a high brow and a lilting voice, confirmed that he had Irak in his possession. She was unharmed, he claimed—and he had plans for her. As he gestured grandly to the silent ranks of undead lining the cavern walls, his smile widened.

“This is all your handiwork,” he said, his tone oily and reverent. “Your blades. Your decisions. You’ve made a generous offering to death—and we are merely stewards of what you began.”

But—he was willing to negotiate.

He did not ask for money. What he wanted was simple: life for life. Four living bakemono, freely offered, in exchange for the honorable monk.

Sukh and Ginjo agreed. But they had a different plan in mind.

They returned to the shrine at their old campsite—the one tended by the peaceful bakemono who venerated the fallen warrior Gunjar. When the four bakemono emerged to greet them, Sukh and Ginjo explained the situation. They needed help—not as bait, but as allies. They promised no betrayal. The mission was to negotiate for Irak’s release and, if necessary, to fight. No one would be left behind.

Moved by the honor shown to them—and perhaps by Gunjar’s lingering spirit—the bakemono agreed.

The Caves of Inharmonious Discord, Part 6

Back in Pasar, Ginjo and Sukh met quietly and formed a quick plan.

Based on what the bakemono had told Ginjo about the kidnapper clan, Sukh proposed a bold move: negotiate. He wasn’t ready to march headlong into another battle against undead hordes. And if one of the temple gems fetched enough silver, they might be able to ransom their comrades and avoid a lot of unnecessary bloodshed.

Sheng, the mercenary, had spent time imprisoned with Shek and was eager to help find his friend. The five sohei, still loyal to Ginjo, agreed—hopeful they might recover Irak alive.

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The Deal

Ginjo and Sukh made contact with the kidnappers. These bakemono were different—larger than men, covered in thick hair like bears. They were shrewd, cautious. They insisted on selling both captives sight unseen—no haggling, no picking. But their price was lower than expected: 100 tael for the pair.

The party agreed.

One of the captives was indeed Shek, battered but alive.

The other, unfortunately, was a raving, violent man—wild-eyed, chained, and furious. The hairy bakemono rolled him down the slope like a sack of meat. As soon as he was unshackled, he punched Sukh, grabbed for a sword, and—when thwarted—charged back up the hill, screaming curses and swinging his chains, intent on attacking his former captors.

Reasoning that a dog returns to its vomit, Ginjo and Sukh took the opportunity to get Shek out—fast.

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Shek’s Story

Once they reached safety, Shek told them everything.

Pana, the foreign priest, had turned on them. Irak and Shek had been on watch, and Pana used strange magic to paralyze both of them, then bound them and marched them through the forest by night. By the time they reached the canyon floor, dawn was near. Shek described a scene of chaos: dozens of bakemono, fighting and shrieking in the moonlight. They saw Pana and the prisoners and clamored for a tatste.

The two silent acolytes had been the first to be traded—given away to the bakemono to keep others distracted or appeased.

Then Pana had traded Shek as well—keeping only Irak, bound and silent.

Shek didn’t know where they went next.

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Next Steps

Ginjo and Sukh conferred.

It was now beyond doubt: Pana was affiliated with the wicked men who had built their own temple lair in the cliffs above the canyon. Possibly the same red and black caves the bakemono had warned them about.

Ginjo was not eager to return there. The sight of undead—zombies, skeletons, moaning spirits—had left him unsettled. But there was no other path.

If they were to save Irak, they had to go back.

And they had to go soon.