Homecoming Part 9 (Finale and a new beginning)

 The surprise attack on Byxata did not go as the Traldars had expected.  Somehow, the Hutakaans had been ready.  Kfaz was there, leading a well-organized defense.  The defenders targeted Ben-Kraal with javelins and sling stones.  He was knocked from his mount and half-trampled.  The Traldars called off the attack and retreated.  They had the wherewithal to shield Be-Kraal and hoist his half-dead body onto a mount.  A few of the boldest warriors urged their lizards to climb up the town walls to guard the retreat of the main body.  While there were few casualties, the Traldars returned to Ronkan in defeat.

The party received little blame.  There was talk of a traitor who must have alerted the Hutakaans.  But the loudest talk was about Ben-Kraal and his poor decision to lead his warriors into a trap.

Sukh, Ginjo, and Phubi pushed their way intot he tower and Ben-Kraal's sickroom.  They warned him of the seditious talk about him. He shrugged it off.  He would be challenged to a duel and killed and a new leader would be selected.  It was the Traldar way.  After a nod from Ginjo, Phubi pulled out the scroll she had found in the middle. She read it over Ben-Kraal.  In a flash of white fire, the scrool was consumed and all in the room felt fully invigorated.  Ben-Kraal jumped out of bed, fully healed.  He strode down the stairs, but assumed an awkward, wincing gait as he met the crowd outside.

As predicted, there was a challenge.  The two men stripped naked and began to fight.  Ben-Kraal sustained a couple punched, shook his head and then took hold of his challenger and threw him to the ground.  His challenger stood up only to be punched in the face and knocked to the ground again. The challenger pulled himself to his feet and the crowd took a breath, expecting Ben-Kraal to finish him off.

Instead the sturdy warrior took a few steps back.  "Today I learned the value of mercy.  Maybe some of you."

Some were angry, some were inspired, most were confused, but all had to respect Ben-Kraal's decision not to finish the fight.  The challenger knew better than to claim the mantle of leadership.  It would stay with Ben-Kraal.

The next day, Sukh and Ginjo pressed Ben-Kraal with the urgency of returning to the temple. In his study of the books, Ginjo read about a powerful enemy of the ancient Hutaakans, one who had lived for centuries and whose power, it seemed, still lingered.  This was an evil mage named Acererak.who after transforming himself into an undead being, had continued to develop his arcane powers. Also for centuries, the Hutaakans had been researching how to destroy him and had developed certain magic items for this purpose.  Sukh and Ginjo wanted to visit the temple once mre, with the key, find the Hutakaan treasury, and hopefully those items.

Ben-Kraal was surprised that Sukh was no longer pressing him to make peace witht he Hutakaans but instead plotting to loot their temple.

"I know them and I know you.  You are honorable.  When we visited the temple together, you fought beside us."

Ben-Kraal agreed that Sukh and Ginjo should loot the temple.  "But do not return here."  He apologized to the bakemono for their rough treatment. "If there are other people outside this valley that are more like you than like us, than your promised land must also be elsewhere. Leave us to our petty war."

There was no public goodbye.  Ben-Kraal insisted that the Traldars must believe that the party would be returning that night laden with treasure.  He provided four lizard mounts to help carry the load.

So the party returned once more to the temple.  They found the treasury behind the altar and used the key to gain access.  Ginjo was disappointed at the lack of weapons, but compensated himself by collecting thousands of gold coins and ingots, filling up a dirty old sack that was conveniently draped over one arm of an ornate wooden throne.  He was even more disappointed later when he opened the sack later and found all of his treasure had disappeared.  But rather than cast it aside, Sukh suggested that it might come in handy someday.  They were also puzzled by a wooden rod, light and brittle, and carved with a single magic sigil.  A mystery for another day.

The party loaded the food and supplies that would be the bulk of their treasure, plus a small coffer of gems that Sukh had deliberately not placed in the devouring sack and said goodbye to the lost valley.  They climbed on top of the temple and that up the side of the valley, taking the same trail by which they had seen the Master's minions arrive and depart. 

With the help of the giant footpad lizards, scaling the peaks of the Lost Valley was an achievable feat.  The travelers descended into an oven-hot sandy desert.  Traversing a nightmare landscape of burnt-out villages and rotten oases, the party soon became homesick for Ronkan.  As their water supplies ran low, they realized it was too far to go back and they could only press forward.  By powers beyond their ken, they encountered a party of riders who, after some initial wariness, took ity on the strange wanderers.  They shared water and explained they were scout in the army of Barack Al-Fitar, fighting a desperate hit-and-run-run-run campaign to defend their land against the depredations of a sinister warlord, called by his minions by only the name "Master" and with no knowable objective other than destruction.

Ginjo offered that he and his friends had also encountered and fought against the Master's minions.  And he was eager to continue to fight against them.  

And so the party was introduced to al-Fitar and, inducted into his army.  Al-Fitar showed himself to be "tough but fair," demanding strict discipline among his troops, but granting the party latitude and autonomy based on their experience and willingness to commit to the the cause.  In particular, he made it clear that although the four bakemono shamans resembled many of the Master's minions, they should be judged by their individual characters, rather than this resemblance.  He excepted the party from the most demanding aspect of army life, while warning them that he would soon be asking them to perfomr a very dangerous mission.

Homecoming Part 8

 Ginjo and Sukh spent several weeks resting in Ronkan and giving their retinues the chance to celebrate their accomplishments. The Traldar cautiously ventured outside their houses after nightfall, relieved that the walking dead had finally found rest. But there was clearly still a great evil to confront.  As Ginjo had predicted, the tentacled monster became more active.  Sukh and Ginjo, after conferring with Ben-Kraal, decided that they should give the Hutakaan a chance to join in destroying the common enemy.

So one fine day, Ginjo, Sukh and company made their way to Byxata.  They were welcomed.  "We knew that you would come when you were ready for the truth."  Several Hutakaan families opened up their homes.  The high Priestess Kfaz invited the bakemono shamans to share her dwelling.

Kfaz was reluctant to join with the Traldar for any reason.  "It was their ancestors who released the monster in the first place, why should we expect a better outcome this time?"

An agreement was made that the party would meet Kfaz at the temple.  And the party would travel via Ronkan so Sukh could ask Ben-Kraal to contribute help.

As Kfaz had predicted, Ben-Kraal refused. "We risked our neck with the ghosts and zombies, it's their turn!"  He also warned Sukh against leaving the temple with the Hutakaans during thenight. "Enter in daylight and leave in daylight."

So Sukh and Ginjo together with their followers, met the Hutakaans and entered the temple.  Sukh had made a careful and so they explored the crypt and other places the party had visited with the Traldars.  There was no obvious way to track down and fight the tentacled monster, except by going into the dark pit.   In discussing various options, Kfaz learned that Ginjo had taken books from the temple library and the two began to argue.  The argument seemed ready to come to blows when Sukh noticed several tentacles emerging from the pit. Dripping with sticky slime, one tentacle caught Irak and another caught Dew Blossom.  Immediately their companions charged with their weapons and began hacking at the hideously writhing appendages.  The tentacles were like thick, slippery leather.  All but the strongest blows slid or bounced off harmlessly.  Meanwhile additional tentacles emerged until the entire monster, a huge green mass, a bloated stomach studded with teeth and dripping slime and acid, crawled out of the pit.  The heroes charged toward this horror, shielding their helpless friends from the gnashing teeth while hacking at the disgusting monster.  One-by-one, they cleaved the tentacles from the body of the monster, leaving it helples and then stabbed it with spears until it fell still.  Only when the monster was dead, did the Hutakaans approach it.  They had seen the large key embedded in its gullet.  And when Ginjo also reached for the key, a struggle ensued.  Ginjo slipped out of the Hutakaan's grip and dropped her onto the body of the monster.  The gelatinous mass jiggled and slid into the pit, carrying the hutakaan with it.

Later, Sukh was say that more outrageous than anything else was Kfaz's cavalier attitude with regard to her own assistant.  The high priestess sniffed, "It seems the key will remain in the temple for now."

"Don't you want to do anything about this?"  Sukh demanded.  And then Sukh asked for assistance in getting into the cage.

They lowered Sukh into the pit and a darkness so deep, he couldn't see his own legs.  He asked them to lower him under and then pull him right back up.  The darkness, below the top of the pit, was complete, even with a torch, but Sukh re-emerged unscathed with the torch still burning.    He asked them to lower him further and then to pull him up when he shook the chain. Bo Jing and Saw turned the winch until the chain went slack.  A few seconds later the chain began to shake and they winded it back up.  

Sukh was relieved but disappointed.  "I reached the bottom and it was still dark.  I couldn't see anything and the ground was slimy beneath me.  I listened for the breathing of our companion, but heard nothing.  Sadly, she must be dead."

Kfaz and the other priestess shrugged and left the temple.  The sky, visible through the hole in the dome, was still dark and so the party, remembering Ben-Kraal's warning, remained in the temple to wait the dawn.  

As the Hutakaans were gone, Sukh began laughing and pulled out the slime-cvered key that he'd tucked into his tunic.  It was dark at the bottom of the pit, he confessed, but not pitch black.  In the flickering light of the torch, he'd seen the crumbled body of the unfortunate hutakaan priestess, and , emerging from the dissolving  mass of the monster, the large, oddly-shaped key.  Phubi revealed that sshe, too, had located, a fantastic schedule, a set of scrolls with powerful healing powers, including a chant for calling someone back from the brink of death to full health.

About an hour later, as the sky turned pink, the party left the temple, very cautious and weapons at the ready.  They were ambushed-- badly-- by a group of Traldars waiting on the roof.  One spear glanced off Gentle Foot's shoulder.  The Traldars called out an apology.  Sukh was angry and suspicious, but accepted the Traldars' apology on the condition that they return to Ronkan with the Traldars leading the way.

The Traldar complied, and by their conduct when they reached Ronkan, proved that they were not shapeshifters.  Most of the warriors of Ronkan were gone, and those that remained were in an expectant mood.  The reason, one giddy Traldar matron revealed, is that the day had come to extinguish the Hutakaan.  Having learned that Kfaz was gone from Byxata, Bem-Kraal and a large party had rode out at dawn to attack the Hutakaans.  Without their leadere to protect and lead them, the jackal-headed tyrants would be slaughtered!  Every dog bitch and pup!

Sukh resolved not to tell the Traldars about the key.

Homecoming Part 7

As the Traldar warmed to the visitors, they explained that the Hatukaan’s main temple lay not far away. “We will not allow them to return because if they do, they will summon all the dead to their evil work.”

Sukh and Ginjo were curious and decided to see the temple for themselves. A few traldars, mounted on lizards showed them the way. The temple was a two-story building. The domed roof had been badly damaged by a large landslide. As they drew closer, they noticed a gathering of people on top of the dome. They were about 20 and had the canine heads of the hutakaan and the muscular bodies of the traldar. In other words, they looked like hyena-headed bakemono from the Caves of Discord. They seemed to have just arrived in the valley—the dozen or so on the roof were being joined by others rappelling down the cliffs.

Sukh and Ginjo engaged the surprise visitors, with Ginjo explaining that the Traldar and Hutakan were engaged in civil war. The visitors explained that they were under the banner of the Master and that whichever side pledged allegiance to him would surely come out on top in any local conflict. The traldar guides, objecting to the conversation rode back to Ronkan. Sukh did his best to licit information from the hyeana-headed visitors but they seemed to have little to offer expect that, yes, the flying women were also part of the Master’s forces.

Sukh and Ginjo decided that they should also return to Ronkan. They were met with outrage and derision, accused of giving away secrets to the enemy. Ben-Kraal quieted the rabble and asked for a more in-depth briefing, but this was unnecessary as the hyaena-men soon arrived in person.

Ben-Kraal order that they should be provided hospitality and gave them an empty house to use as they wished (the same one where that tentacled monster had recently attacked) while he considered their offer of alliance with the unseen Master.

Ben-Kraal confided to Sukh and Bo-Jing his belief that the conflict of the valley would soon come to a head. And as long as the valley was haunted by the undead—whom he believed were controlled by the hutakaan, it would be impossible to consider negotiating peace. He believed that the undead would be put to rest through a special ritual inside the temple. To conduct the ritual, they needed water from the singing pool. Unfortunately, it was impossible to get to the singing pool and back within one day—and the Traldar dared not be caught out in the valley after dark . . .

Bo-Jing volunteered to lead a small group to the singing pool while Sukh provided support in Ronkan lest the hyaena men caused any trouble. The hyeana men were loud and boisterous, but in their crude unaffected manners and apparent martial prowess, they earned some begrudging respect among the Traldar.

Sukh was suspicious that something else was going on and patrolled the village with Phru, making many visits to the roof of Ben-Kraal’s tower. He sensed an invisible presence in the tower and called an alarm. In a burst of fire, that presence showed itself, a woman dressed in dazzling red and gold robes. She too declared her allegiance to the Master and warned the people of Ronkan that they must accept accept his authority. When Sukh and Phru attacked her, she ensnared them in a giant spider’s web and then blasted her way out of the tower, killing most of Ben-Kraal’s most trusted advisors. The hyena men burst out of their house and charged out of the village, while the flying women swooped down from the cliffs. Sukh chased the woman to a tower balcony and stabbed her twice before she escaped on the back of one of the flying women. Sukh ran back to the top of the tower to help Phru but was too late. She saw two of the women flying off with his lifeless body and a third with his axe.

The next day, groups of Traldar war parties set out with an unelaborated mission to “find out what’s going on!” One group returned late in the day with a badly-beatan Hutakaan. They put him in the same house that had been occupied by the hyaena men and deliberated over how to make him “tell what he knows about the fire witch!”

Ginjo returned in the evening. His missin had been a success. He cautioned the Traldar against torturing the Hutakaan prisoner. “Just because you make him talk doesn’t mean you can make him tell you the truth. If you hurt him he will only tell you what you already think.” Ben-Kraal agreed and ordered that the torture should cease. “We have a more important job to do now.”

The next day, a large group set out for the temple, including Sukh and Bo-Jing and their entire retinues, plus Ben-Kraal and six of his best warriors. They entered by breaking down the front door where they met a dozen zombies, most of them hutaakans, but one of them a reanimated hyena man. While the Traldar hesitated outside, Sheng and Shek held the doors half open so that Sukh and Bojing could fight the zombies in small groups, while Phubi castigated any that managed to escape the gauntlent. Ben-Kraal was thoroughly impressed by the combination of tactics and bravery; ordered his men to assist the fight. Together, the group destroyed the zombies while suffering only a few minor wounds. Gentle foot and the other bakemono shaman were glad to tend to these wounds and together the group entered the temple itself.

They soon found themselves in the main sanctuary—a large room, under the cracked dome with a pit in the middle surrounded by blue flames. Sukh found the stone altar, at the foot of a monumental statute of a jackal-head man. But there was no bowl to hold the water from the singing pool.


It was time to explore more thoroughly. While being harassed by more undead and quasi-sentient puddles of gray ooze that corroded boots and armor, they found a library full of books describing the history of the Hutakaans, at least from their point of view. While looking for clues about the golden bowl, Ginjo stumbled upon the story of his own family. Centuries ago, the Hutakaan held authority in the lowlands in a kingdom that included the tiny village of Pasar. The stubborn and ungrateful humans resisted everything the Hutakaans tried to teach them and when they did learn something, managed to forget that they had learned it from the Hutakaans. Some of the most ungrateful humans began to gather in secret, and made an evil plan to kill their teachers and destroy their most beautiful works. At almost the last minute, two of the plotters, Kwam-Rak and Tral-Dar, realized the error of their ways and confessed everything to their masters. The other plotters were captured and punished. Kwam-Rak and Tral-Dar were rewarded. Kwam-Rak was given authority over the lowland humans. Tral-Dar was invited to retire with the most learned of the Hutakaans to the Hidden Valley. Bojing considered these treasures were valuable than gold and he stowed as many as he could in his backpack, asking Phubi and the bakemono shaman to do the same.

Elsewhere in the temple, in a half-collapsed corridor, they stumbled upon the long-dead body of a Hutakaan priestess in all her temple finery, clutching a golden bowl. When Sukh grabbed for the bowl, the spirit of the priestess rose to attack. Her chilling touch drained a part of his very lifeforce. Most weapons were unable to harm the vengeful spirit. Saw, with the magical spear taken from the bull-man was able to pin the spirit to the ground and destroy it.

When the party returned to the sanctuary, they met additional undead, including re-animated bird-woman wielding Phru’s axe. The battle was quick and brutal. Phubi held most of the zombies at bay while the rest of the party fanned out and shot them with arrows. And when the battle was over, an argument broke out. Bojing had read the books from the library and he now understood that the the undead were temple guardians. If they were destroyed, a more terrible evil would be unleashed. He would rather fight squads of ambling zombies than even see whatever terrible thing lived in the pit. Sukh argued with him, but when he ran out of facts, made a dash for the altar and filled the golden bowl with water from the singing pool. Bo Jing tried to stop him but the Traldar “accidentally” stepped into his way. Sukh placed the bowl on the later and pronounced the words that involuntarily came to his lips. The sanctuary was bathed in a soft, golden glow. Everyone felt a little calmer. Some a lot calmer. Bo Jing just a very little tiny bit calmer. And he still thought Sukh was an idiot.

Homecoming Part 6

Ginjo, Sukh, together with Irak, Shek, and Vanilla Rainbow ventured out to observe the “jackalhead” ceremony. The other bakemono were required to stay in Ronkan and Phru and Saw protecting them. Following the directions of their hosts, the party found the ruins of a temple, reduced nearly to its foundations. Weaving around the half-columns and around a circular fire pit, a dozen fox-headed creatures chanted in a low drone, taking turns shouting out ecstatic phrases in a language that Ginjo barely recognized as bakemono though he identified only a few individual words.

Sukh cautiously walked down the slope and onto the floor of temples, holding out his open hands.

One of the fox-headed people stopped abruptly and raised up her own hands, and shouted out, “Behold, they have come!” The other chanters fell silent and all looked to the speaker, a tall and slender being, wearing robes trimmed with silver.

Sukh murmured a bakemono greeting and Ginjo came down the slope to join them.

The silver-robed bakemono uttered a series of friendly but unintelligible sentences.

After a few minutes of awkward pleasantries, the party determined that the speaker was trying to speak to them in Pasari, though her pronunciation was very strange. Ginjo asked how she had come to know his language.

“Your language? My ancestors taught your people how to speak. And sing and dance. We helped you develop laws, planned your cities and roads. All the systems you traverse.”

Her name was Kfadz and she listened eagerly as Ginjo told her about his family, about the caves of discord and about the carpet by which they had found their way to the bakemono homeland.

Kfadz and the others explained that they were the Hatukaan, and they were indeed ensnared in a war against the ungrateful Traldar. “As you have no doubt seen, they are brutish people. They refused to learn anything and rather than apply their animal strength to useful labor, demand to make their own way, destroying the beautiful things by which we once hoped to bring them up to a better way of being.”

Sukh expressed his hope that a peace could be negotiated. He declined the initiation to accompany the hatukaan back to their own settlement of Byxata, explaining that they had friends back in Ronkan. “But we will find a way to get out and come to Byxata.”

The party returned to Ronkan and reported that they had witnessed the ceremony and that it did not involve the summoning of undead monsters. Ben-Kraal sneered that they had been tricked by the jackalheads. The party began discussing how they would escape. They stayed up all night to watch the guard changes. In the middle of tne night they heard a scream coming from one of the houses. Ginjo broke down the door and found a Traldar teenager in the coils of a slimy green tentacle that was pulling her toward a dark hole in the floor. While her family clung to her desperately, Ginjo drew his katana and leaped into action. The tentacle was thick and tough, barely yielding to the katana’s edge while another tentacle burst through the floor and smacked Ginjo to the floor. Phru entered the house, pulled Ginjo to his feet and together they chopped at the tentacles until freed the girl. They fled the house and watched from outside as the tentacles thrashed about before finally withdrawing into the floor.

The Traldar complimented Ginjo on his valiance. After some reluctance, they admitted that the tentacled monster made appearance on almost a weekly basis, and attributed its attacks to the jackalhead magic.

The party spent a few more days in Ronkan, giving Ginjo a chance to recover from his fight with the monster. A fw days later, a strange flying woman appeared above the village. The Traldar instinctively raised the spears to hurl at her, but as she descended, she began to sing and they dropped their spears to stare at her stupidly. Sukh, shaking off the charm of her song, raised his bow and begin shooting arrows at her, driving her away. He recommended that the wall guards should begin plugging their ears with wax to avoid being deceived by any future attacks. Furthermore, he recommended that one of the “vocals”—whose voice could easily be heard from anywhere in the village and drown out any other noise—join the guards and pay special attention to any threats form the sky. Ben-Kraal was impressed by these suggestions and ordered that they should be done.

Homecoming Part 4

 The silver needle, when inserted into Kwam-Rak carpet, slipped out of Ginjo's and, seemingly with a mind of its own, began to embroider the carpet with a golden thread.  The thread grew as the needle worked, passing over every square inch of the carpet to add line, shading, definition, even the illusion of flowing water and fluttering leaves.  The abstract shapes became a map and a beautiful landscape on which well-known landmarks were clearly visible including Lake Pasar, the Cave of Discord and hundreds of villages including the Kwam-Rak compound.  Pasar itself was only a small village and the map did not show the empires to the west or their roads.  The needle finished its work in the jungle near Lake Pasar, seemingly at the exact point where Ginjo now stood in the Monastery of the Two-Fold Path.  Ginjo and Sukh agreed that they must show the carpet-map to their bakemono friends.

By the time they reached the bakemonos' lair in the forest, the needle had moved. It had embroidered a pathway, using tiny letters in a script form of bakemono: "Now is the time for the dear ones to reconcile and return home."

Sukh and Ginjo discussed the matter with their bakemono friends and decided that they would use the carpet to find their way to the bakemono homeland together.  Sheng and Shek, plus Irak and a few other sohei would join them.

Relying on the carpet as a guide, the travelers returned to the Caves of Discord and the Shrine of the death cult, where they found a blocked tunnel.  Working diligently, they moved enough boulders and rubble to reveal a passage deep under ground.  After provisioning themselves with torches from the stores of the death cult, they ventured into the hidden underground highway.  They followed its course for many miles, soon realizing that they must conserve their torches by allowing the bakemono to lead the way while the darkness-blind humans made do with the light of glowing embers.

They spent two nights in the tunnel, crossed an underground river and found themselves in a maze of smaller tunnels.  As with the expansion of Pasar into a large town and the blockage in the shrine of the death cult, the carpet-map did not show this presumably more recent construction.  The maze seemed to be part of an abandoned mine.  The party lit additional torches to find their way and fought off attacks from an enormous, half-invisible spider.  They found their way at last by following a draft of pure air.  They came upon a wide tunnel slanted upward at a steep enough angle that a trickle of water ran steadily down it.  Following that tunnel they emerged on a blustery cliffside in the middle of the night.  After spending the night inside the tunnel, and waiting for the dawn, they ventured outside once more.  According to the carpet-map they were still on the right way, and would follow a path on the side of a cliff for several more days.  

At the end of those days, the travelers were confronted with another disconnect between the map and current reality.  The beautiful stone bridge that arched over the chasm to a pair of enormous iron doors had collapsed.  The party camped, rested, and discussed what to do.  Sukh had recovered a few magic potions from the lair of the bull monster.  According to wise woman he'd consulted in Pasar two of the potions had properties that might assist them in crossing the ravine.  

The party had enough rope that they climb down the wall of the ravine without expending any of their magical resources.  Despite a couple close calls, everyone reached the bottom safely.  They drank deeply from the river and rested on the soft grass.  Then they prepared to climb the other side.

Ginjo drank a long draught of dank, frothy liquid and within a minute, grew to five or six times his normal size.  His clothing and possessions-- including the rope-- also grew in size.  Climbing up the the other side of the ravine was a strenuous challenge, especially with Irak holding onto him.  But he was large enough and strong enough to use the ledges and outcropping like the steps on a ladder.  When he reached a large enough ledge half way up, Irak let the rope down and helped the others climb up it.  Then Ginjo and Irak repeated the maneuver to reach another ledge near the top.  The ledge at the very top was the too narrow and unstable to support the enlarged Ginjo.  He gave Irak a push and helped ther others climb up to the to ledge.  Then when the potion wore off and he returned to his normal size, Ginjo joined them by way of the rope.  

Now it was Sukh's turn to make use of a magic potion. He unstoppered a small glass vial and tossed back a dull blue liquid that turned to mist as it poured into his mouth.  As Sukh inhaled the thick mist, he too turned into mist and, in the form of a dull blue cloud, rose up and over the pair of tall iron doors.  For a moment, he took on the sight of the bakemono homeland.  His vision was blurred, but he could make out a verdant valley that matched the carpet-map, with towns and roads and other small structures dotted throughout.  He was not able to see any movement or detect signs of life.  Not knowing ow long the potion's effect would last, he descended to the ground on the other side of the doors.

On the inside, the doors were flanked by a pair of eight-foot jade statues-- humanoids with the head's of foxes or jackals.  These figures looked like what Sukh would call bakemono but their flowing robes, haughtily serene demeanors, and especially the artistry of the statues themselves were suggestive of something very different from anything Sukh had encountered in the Caves of Discord or his kind-hearted but simple friends.  Sukh was distracted from his musings by a chortle of laughter from Dew Blossom and Gentle Foot on the other side of the doors, still held shut by an iron bar.  With a shout, he heaved the bar off its brackets and called to his companions.  They pushed their way inside as the jade statues came to life.  

Relying on battle-tested tactics, Sukh and Ginjo each attacked one of the statues directly with a flurry of aggressive slashes while their companions made coordinated flanking attacks.  The jade statues were terrifying opponents, the faces set in fearless disdain but they fell to ruin under the rain of blows. They had reached the lost valley of the bakemono.

Immediately before them was a collection of stone buildings, the beauty of their proportion and precise construction still evident in their ruined state.  For they were ruined.  Roofs were missing, walls had collapsed, moss grew thickly, and, as they wandered into the town, they found the streets strewn with rubble, a tree growing from a dry fountain.  Looking closer, it seemed the destruction was deliberate.  Carvings and frescoes were deliberately defaced and marked by graffiti, in a style reminiscent, in form, style, and substance, of the Caves of Discord.

Welcome home?

Homecoming Part 3

 Ginjo and Sukh decided they would look for the needle in the Caves of Discord.  Based on their experiences with the bakemono, they reasoned that it would most likely be found with the strongest bakemono, the bear-like "kidnapper gang" that had captured Shek.  In their investigation, they learned that this group had only become bolder after the destruction of the Death Cult and the dispersion of the other bakemono groups.  They were regularly attacking human villages to obtain captives.  At least one village was offering a bounty.  Ginjo and Sukh decided that they would leave this problem to other adventurers and maintained a focus on finding the magic needle, which the inscription on the carpet  described as being made of silver.

They visited the "kidnapper" of "bear" bakemono and were welcomed gratefully.  The kidnappers proclaimed that they had several humans to sell. And their price had only increased slightly since the last time.  When Ginjo let it be known that they were more interested in a magic needle and that they had the carpet, the bear bakemono became talking over each other, some of them clamoring to see the carpet, with others shouting out prices to sell the needle, and one still threatening to sell the humans to another buyer who wanted to eat them. Sukh led the negotiation for the captives while Ginjo hinted that the magic needle looked like any other old needle.  Together they came up with an offer for the humans and agreed that they would come back soon to buy the needle.

The captives were a man and wife who lived on the other side of Pasar.  They required frequent rests and made repeated requests for "better food."  As they reached their home village, they chided the party for ransoming them.  "You know it only encourages them to raid us because they know they can get money.  What you should do is go and kill them all."

Sukh and Ginjo decide to leave this ambiguous and returned to the bear bakemono cave.  The needle presented was old and rusty. When Ginjo said he was looking for a silver needle, the bakemono tried to tell him it was silver, but needed to be polished.  Sukh and Ginjo debated buying the rusty needle, but decided they could always return and buy it later.  The references to people-eating monster who was also interested in buying captives made them wonder if this monster was the keeper of the needle.    If they killed the monster and didn't find the needle, they would only be in a better position to bargain with the bakemono.

Based on conversations with their bakemono friends, Sukh and Ginjo deduced that the people eater lived in the labyrinth where Liu-Po had been killed by giant beetles.  Ginjo warned that their foe would be a formidable one to live in such a strange place and share it with such  hideous creatures. But Sukh avowed that he would face any dangers with his sword ready.  Perhaps both thought of Gunjar, who had been Ginjo's first companion in exploring the Caves of Discord.  Ginjo missed the holy man, but he appreciated Sukh's wisdom in battle and felt confident knowing that together they were leading a well-disciplined group of warriors.

On an auspicious day, at about mid-morning, they entered the maze of the monster, a creature described as a powerfully-built man with the head of a bull.  Sukh did his best to map the narrow, twisty corridors, but soon found the effort made him dizzy.  They pushed onward by trial-and-error, avoiding the tell-tale red glow of the giant beetles.

After at least an hour of walking in circles, they found themselves in large cavern.  Their flickering torches created strange shadows that danced on the walls beside crude drawing of the foe they were hunting and the many victims he had hunted before them.  A pungent, bestial scent hung in the air, soon broken by the sounds of aggressive snorting and stomping.  Ginjo order the sohei and mercenary to spread out and find places to hide themselves.  He and Sukh stepped boldly into the middle of the cavern and drew their swords.

From out of the darkness, the monster charged, wielding a thick-shafted spear with a blade nearly as long as a sword.  Sukh whirled to miss the point of the spear whereupon the monster lowered its head and gored him with its horns.  Sukh was knocked to the floor and struggled to get up as Ginjo closed, slashing at the monster's back, opening two great wounds.  Bellowing in pain and rage, the monster turned.  Sukh and Ginjo mastered their fear and flanked the monster, taking turns withstanding its powerful blows while the other slashed and stabbed, remaining close enough to prevent it from gathering speed to charge.  Just as the monster was faltering, Ginjo was struck in the face with the butt of the spear and fell on his back.  Sukh, fighting to stay on his own feet was slow to come to his aid, and this was the moment for Phru to shine.  Chanting a prayer from the monastery of the two-fold path, he led the other sohei in a surprise charge against the monster.  Dropping its spear, it thrashed and kick like a pure animal as the sohei's spear found its heart.  The monster was dead.

They rested and explored the monster's lair, at last finding a boulder that concealed a cahce of strange treasures-- foreign coins, weird elixirs, and a small ebony box that held a silver needle with a thread of gold.  Ginjo gratefully granted the monster's spear to Phru.  Together, they collected all the coins they could carry and made their way of the labyrinth and back to Pasar. eager to test the needle.

Homecoming Part 2

 Ginjo spent a few days studying the Kwam-Rak family heirloom that had been entrusted to him, a beautifully-crafted carpet.  He puzzled over the design, seemingly abstract, but seemingly real.  He puzzled over the border, a complicated script that he recognized from the book he'd studied to learn Bakemono.  He recognized the individual words, but had trouble finding a meaning that matched the usually brutish and most often simple perspective of the bakemono he'd encountered in the Caves of Discord.

After consulting with Sukh, he decided to seek out his Bakemono friends, the four disciples of Gunjar who had helped him defeat the Death Cult.  He found them in their new home deep in the forest, in a cramped hollow beneath an enormous and vine-covered fallen tree.  When Ginjo described the carpet, the Bakemono were at-once eager to hear about it and reluctant to share what they knew.  Vanilla Rainbow sneered at the others, "Why waste our time on the old stories when we have a new one to tell?"  This confirmed for Ginjo and Sukh that there was a story and they decided they would bring the carpet to the bakemono.

When this was done, even Vanilla Rainbow could not hide her interest.  Ginjo shared the story that he had heard from Pau-Lung and the bakemono nodded.

Gentle Foot interpreted the border inscription.  The carpet was a map, a map to the bakemono homeland.

"But we need the needle," Vanilla Rainbow interrupted, "and the needle is lost!"

The needle, as Gentle Foot explained, would complete the carpet and show the way to the bakemono homeland.  "When the time is right."

Ginjo and Sukh heard four stories about the fate of the needle.

1. It was still held by the strongest bakemono.  
2. It was given to a powerful monster for safe-keeping.
3. It was hidden in a foul, disgusting place where no non-bakemono would dare to go.
4. It was lost and would never be found.

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.

---

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.

---

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.

---

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.

The Caves of Inharmonious Discord Part 4: Vanishings

Now hardened by battle, the party—nine in number—returned to the clearing near the Caves they had once claimed. It was a good spot: flat, with water, and close enough to strike fast.

But something had changed.

At the center of the camp, they found a statue. Two feet tall. Made of clay and stone, with a long braid of grass for hair. It held the shaft of an arrow like a staff. At its base were offerings: a jar of beer, a stack of coins.

This wasn’t debris. It was a message. Someone had tracked them.

The party packed up and moved on.

---

The Drums from the Swamp

They settled again, farther off, in a place that seemed safe. But just after nightfall, drumming began—low and rhythmic, coming from a swampy hollow to the south. It continued for hours.

No attack came. The noise grew monotonous.

They ate rations in silence. Sukh and Ginjo took watch with Sid, Irak, Sheng, and Shek. The foreign priests were left to rest—no one quite trusted them to stand guard. The drumming ebbed but didn’t stop until dawn.

---

Signs of Rot and Silence

At first light, the party moved again—away from the swamp, the caves, the shrine. They found another campsite, better sheltered, and set off for the northern wall of the canyon. Sukh had raided a cave there before.

They passed the familiar skull wall, now dull with weather. Inside: cold ashes in a firepit. Silence.
Then—footsteps.

A bakemono, pig-faced and slack-jawed, stumbled into view. Its nose had been crushed flat. It didn’t react. It didn’t attack.

Pana, the foreign priest, stepped forward. He drew a charm from his robes and spoke words in a foreign tongue. The creature passed them by without a sound.

The cave, they decided, had been abandoned. They returned to their new camp.

---

The Vanishing

That night passed peacefully. Too peacefully.

Sukh and Ginjo slept long and woke late. When they stirred, half the party was gone—Irak, Shek, and the foreign priests. No note. No signs of struggle.

Ginjo found tracks, leading toward the caves.

They followed.

At the bottom of the canyon they found three bodies—one of Pana’s silent acolytes and two dog-lizard bakemono. The trail led to a low cave on the northern wall. Sukh had seen this breed there before.

---

Pit of Vermin

They charged in. Ginjo and Sid triggered a hidden pit and fell. Giant rats swarmed them. From the shadows, bakemono threw javelins.

Sukh and Sheng fought back. One javelin struck Sheng hard. He staggered, nearly dead. Sukh dragged him to safety and hid him among rocks, then returned.

Four bakemono now surrounded the pit, laughing and goading the rats. Sukh raised his bow. Two quick arrows—two dead bakemono. The rest fled.

Down in the pit, Ginjo and Sid fought on. Now, with no new threats from above, they made short work of the rats. Bloodied and gasping, they climbed out on a rope.

---

Loss and Realization

The party regrouped.

There was no sign of Irak or Shek, only the dead and the echo of laughter. Ginjo and Sukh came to a grim conclusion: a stronger force had taken their companions. There was no hope in attac
king blindly.

They returned to Pasar.

There, they found Gwinch—and told him the worst of it: Irak was missing, likely captured, and they were not strong enough to go after her.

The Caves of Inharmonious Discord Part 3: Gunjar's Final Word

After a few days of rest and quiet talk, Ginjo and Gunjar made a decision: they would strike again before returning to Pasar. If they left now, some companions might not return. But there were still at least two bakemono dens they hadn’t touched—and the deeper threat was still out there.

So they set out together—Ginjo, Gunjar, and their surviving allies. Sukh and Sentra came too, but stayed back as rearguard, setting up a watching post inside the canyon to guard the main party’s retreat. Or, if the main party didn’t return, they’d know what to do.

The assault began early, on a cave lay high on the southern cliffs. Inside, they met a strange and fearsome group of bakemono: lean and long-limbed, with faces like mangy cats or clever, hungry dogs. Their weapons were long spears with cruel barbs. Their laughter echoed off the walls—manic and mocking—and they fought as if indifferent as to whether it was them or their enemies who died.

The heroes surprised a group during a meal. Gunjar called down divine silence, and within moments the creatures were overwhelmed, tied up, and disarmed. The party crept past a sleeping chamber—rows of skeletal bakemono sprawled on mats—and burst into their chief’s hall.

The fight was fierce. The chief and his bodyguards fought with wild, high-pitched howls. Ginjo took a wound to the side. One of the monks nearly lost his arm. But when the chief fell, the others surrendered. Again, Gunjar insisted that these monsters should be allowed to surrender; the party bound them and began to regroup.

That’s when they heard the knocking.

From behind a wooden door came the noise—bakemono calling out, knocking, not hostile but persistent in claiming they needed to present an offering to the chief. Gunjar wanted to rest, to heal the injured. But the knocking continued, louder and louder. The party decided to ignore them, wait for silence, then make a break for the exit.

They followed this plan—but it soon fell apart.

They silently left the chief’s chamber and then crept through the hallway toward the entrance—and into an ambush. A group of bakemono with bows and crossbows stepped out of hidden alcoves and opened fire. At the same time, a squad of spear-wielders charged from a side room. Ginjo rushed the archers. Gunjar blocked the charge.

Both leaders held the line—but the hallway was narrow and chaotic. A few bakemono slipped past them and reached the center of the party.

Then came salvation.

Sentra and Sukh, sensing the delay, had entered the cave. They found the bakemono bowmen from behind, cut one down, and shouted to draw the rest. It worked. Ginjo seized the moment, rallying the others. “Move!” he shouted. “Get to the exit!”

They ran.

Sid, one of the monks, was caught in the flank and gored by a spear. He went down, bleeding out fast. Gunjar turned back, drove the bakemono off with a furious strike of his staff, and knelt beside his friend. His hands glowed gold. Sid stirred. He lived.

Gunjar pulled Sid to his feet and shoved him toward the exit, and stood before the final wave— three gaunt and slavering bakemono with axes and long spears. They saw Gunjar alone and wounded, and they struck. He stood his ground. He fell under them.

Ginjo led the retreat, fighting through the last bakemono to reach the mouth of the cave and usher the others out, with Sukh bringing up the rear. The canyon air hit them like wind on fire. As soon as they reached the air, the always unpredictable Sentra was gone—vanishing alone into the hills. “Let him go,” Irak, said, “the two-fold path always returns and if we stays on it, that’s where we will meet him.”

They regrouped at the base of the cliffs. Everyone had wounds. Some could barely walk.

Sukh looked around, then said, “Gunjar… I used to think he was just odd. But he never hurt anyone. He always walked toward danger. And now he's gone.”
He sheathed his blades. “Let’s get back to camp.”

---

The Jungle Trial

That was easier said than done. Gunjar had known the trails best. Sukh led them up and over the ridge, but they ended up in a swamp. They turned around, cut their way through a thicket, and found themselves in deep forest as the sun began to set.

They pushed on. Swords and parangs cut through hanging vines. Then Arif, one of the quiet monks, cried out—his sword caught on a strange, glossy vine. He tried to free it. The vine pulled back. Sticky. Elastic. Not a vine.

Spiders, the size of cats, dropped from the branches. One bit Arif on the neck before anyone rea
ched him. His friends cut it down, drove the other off. But Arif was shaking. The poison took him before they could stop it.

They didn’t find their old camp. Instead, they made a new one: a bare clearing beneath the stars. No fires. No tents. Some slept. Some just waited for dawn.

---

Return to Pasar

The next day, they followed the Rowche Valley trail and returned to Pasar.

Howzaa, last of the farmers, spoke first. “I’ll guard my village,” he said. “But I’m done with these caves. You’re welcome in my home, any time. But I won’t go back.”

The monks split.

• Bagus and Cahya were blunt. Ginjo was brave, but reckless. He chased glory, not balance. They were done.
• Sid, the one Gunjar had saved, quietly joined Sukh. “I don’t know why Gunjar fought the bakemono,” he said. “But I trust him. And if you’re going back, I will too.”
• Irak, a soft-spoken but fierce monk, pulled Ginjo aside. “There’s something darker in that canyon,” she said. “The others don’t see it. But I do. I believe in you.”

Sheng and Shek, the mercenaries, were loyal. Ginjo had saved them. And the Silk Guild still paid well. “Better than guarding caravans,” Shek grunted.

Ginjo and Sukh looked at what was left. They could lead this group. But they needed more than fighters.

They needed a mystic.

That’s when they met Pana.

A stranger from the west, he wore rough robes over fine armor. He was from the west, but did not adhere to the One Law, instead claiming to carry secret wisdom. Two silent acolytes followed him. He listened to Ginjo’s tale, nodded once, and smiled.

“I have seen mysteries that you may never see,” Pana said. “But I know evil when I see it. I’ve seen things like your bakemono before. Sometimes killing is the answer.”

And so he joined them.

The Caves of Inharmonious Discord Part 1: "Other things . . ."

Dramatis Personae

Ginjo – A self-exiled warrior from the Zhou Empire. Level-headed and dependable, with a growing reputation as a local leader. Co-runs a Rowche tea shop in Pasar. Known for his cool command under pressure.

Gunjar – A white shaman from the Land of the Five Fires. Practices an older, spirit-driven tradition separate from the monastic Two-Fold Path. Merciful, mystical, and unsettlingly powerful when the spirits speak through him.

Sukh – A fellow exile from the Valley of the Five Fires. A rugged fighter and sometime rival to Gunjar. Though he declined to join the first temple raid, Sukh has stood by Ginjo since their joint investigation into the Black Flowers. He prefers action to ritual, and carries the weight of unspoken battles.

Sentra – A disciplined monk of the Monastery of the Two-Fold Path. Speaks little, observes much. Occasionally travels beyond monastery walls when duty demands. Respected by both peasants and monks.

Howzaa & Li Po – Rowche farmers turned reluctant adventurers. Survivors of the temple raid, now part of the expedition's vanguard.

Shek & Sheng – Former caravan guards, rescued from bakemono captivity. Now armed, armored, and loyal to Ginjo’s leadership.

---

Into the Caves

A few months had passed since the battle at the temple. Ginjo and Gunjar had returned to Pasar as quiet heroes, but it was the Rowche farmers who carried the most urgent news. The bakemono had not disappeared—they had multiplied.

At first, it was small things: tracks near burned ground, vanished animals, unearthed graves. Then came raids—on livestock, on carts, on lone travelers. The bakemono no longer acted as isolated bands but as a growing force. Their movements pointed to one place: a slot canyon, little more than a narrow tear in the hills, riddled with caves. Old farmers called it a place of ghosts—once a hermitage for monks, now twisted by something deeper and crueler. Dark tunnels leading to still darker places of disharmony, corruption, and discord. Or, as some would say, chaos.

Howzaa and Li Po, braver than most, followed the trails. What they saw—crude symbols, bones, flickering fires—was enough to send them back to Pasar, pale and resolute.

Ginjo and Gunjar answered the call. With the monks of the Two-Fold Path, they recruited a handful of warriors and volunteers, including Howzaa and Li Po. Their goal: not defense, but purification. They would strike into the canyon and root out the bakemono before their corruption spread any further.

They chose to enter through a low cavern mouth on the southern wall, half-hidden by vines and shadow. The air inside was still and damp. Within moments, the party encountered their first foes: half a dozen blue-green, pointy-eared bakemono, the same kind that had desecrated the temple. But this time, the heroes held the advantage—discipline, courage, and steel.

Ginjo led the charge. Gunjar invoked the spirits. The bakemono, caught off guard, were overwhelmed.

Deeper in, they found a cramped chamber made to resemble a throne room, pitiful in its pomp. A larger bakemono sat there, fanged and howling. He commanded his underlings to attack—only for Gunjar to step forward and deliver a scathing sermon, condemning them for their cruelty. The spirits answered. The air grew thick. The bakemono collapsed. Most would never rise again. But there were a few who rose and fled screaming, horrified by their own wickedness. 

The group pressed on, ascending narrow stairs and winding tunnels. The deeper they went, the stronger the resistance: larger bakemono, better-armed and less easily cowed. Still, Ginjo’s leadership held them together. Gunjar tended wounds with quiet devotion. And when they entered a prison chamber, they found survivors.

A wealthy silk merchant, his wife, and two guards. Captured on the road and held for ransom—or worse. The heroes escorted them to safety. The merchant, once returned to Pasar, offered Ginjo a generous reward through the Silk Guild.

His two guards, Shek and Sheng, outfitted with fresh gear, pledged their blades to the cause.

---

New Allies, New Plans

The battle had begun in earnest.

With evidence mounting of a large and organized bakemono presence, the party began assembling a broader force. The silk merchant’s influence helped. So did the quiet authority of the monks.

Sentra, a monk of the Two-Fold Path, and Sukh, the warrior from Gunjar’s homeland, agreed to join the next raid. Gwinch, an elder at the monastery, sent five additional sohei. In total, the expedition now
numbered a dozen fighters—sohei, caravaners, farmers, and four proven leaders.

They established a camp in the canyon—a central base from which to raid and regroup. They would strike in turns: one team would attack, the other defend the camp and tend the wounded.

The first strike had gone well.

But darker things lay deeper in the caves—and the bakemono had begun to organize.

Sentra and Sukh’s Sortie

Sukh had declined the temple raid—but he had never left the fight.

He’d been watching. Listening. The stories coming from the caves sounded worse than those from the Rowche ridgeline. So when Ginjo proposed a second sortie, Sukh agreed to lead it. He would go with Sentra, the quiet monk, who had once spoken of peace with a tone so cold it sounded like steel drawn from a scabbard.

They took with them a handful of sohei, plus several brave farmers. Their target: a narrow tunnel on the northern side of the canyon, half-hidden by brush and trees.

As they approached, it happened fast—a sudden rain of spears. Half a dozen small bakemono-- half-rat, half-dog, half-lizard-- dropped from the trees, shrieking and stabbing. One monk was run through and barely clung to life. Sentra charged into the fray, and swept two of the creatures aside with his staff. The ambushers fled into the underbrush, barking and hissing.

Sentra stabilized the wounded, wrapping their wounds with calm precision. He insisted the wounded be returned to camp immediately. 

That decision may have saved lives.

---

Sukh and Sentra returned hours later to a larger cavern mouth, higher on the canyon wall. The afternoon sun slanted into the opening. Inside, the light revealed ranks of severed heads, lined in niches carved into the stone. Human and bakemono, all grim trophies.

One niche was empty.

Sentra’s eyes narrowed. He had seen movement. A pig-nosed head, twitching ever so slightly—then gone. Behind the niche, he found a small tunnel. Throwing a torch inside, he glimpsed a parallel hallway, hidden behind the rows of skulls.

"They saw us first," Sentra muttered.
Sukh nodded. “Then we move fast.”

They charged into the main corridor, seeking an intercept point. They did not find the watcher—but they found four armed pig-faced bakemono.

The battle was sharp and fast. The creatures were tough but scattered. Sukh gutted two. Sentra crushed the windpipe of a third. The fourth tried to flee—but never made it to the tunnel.

They followed signs of habitation deeper in—and soon came upon the chief's lair.

He was bloated, bright red, with massive tusks jutting from his mouth like daggers. He sat in a heap of cushions and bones, surrounded by snarling bodyguards and several female bakemono.

The sohei and farmers squared off against the guards. Sukh pointed his blade at the chief.

The duel was brief, brutal, and strange. The chieftain fought with reckless strength—smashing, howling, lashing out blindly. But Sukh was patient. He waited, deflected, retreated. When the chief overcommitted, Sukh stepped in and struck low, then high—a clean kill.

The other bakemono panicked. Some tried to flee. None made it out.

The heroes looted the lair and returned to camp.

They had found one lair—but the canyon was full of mouths. And not all of them would be so clumsy.