Zhang Liao Wenyuan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rukhgate2013-01-15 11:21 am
800isenough) wrote in rukhgate2013-01-15 11:21 am
Entry tags:
001
[Rukhs. Dungeon Gates. Magicians.
Magic.
He could barely wrap his head around these terms, to acknowledge their existence as real and fact. Not just some slight of hand or a cheap charlatan's trick. No, there were flying carpets, magic spells that could lift a man of his feet and send him flying in one direction if he resisted, a strange crystal that pushed back when he carefully placed his hands on the smooth surface, and the alien architecture and foreign words that he had to accept as his reality now.
They called him an Indigo Mage, a Strength Mage. He glanced down at his hand; a warrior's hand, covered in calluses and skin hardened and toughened through war and training. Flexing his fingers, he frowned, closing them to form a fist and straining to find his Qi; the energy that brought forth strength from within. But where there was once something, now there was nothing. It was like reaching for a tool, no, it was like trying to move an arm or a leg, only to find...nothing. It was as if his access to his Qi was blocked.
He leaned his head back on the wall he was resting on outside his assigned room 107, closing his eyes in an attempt to block out the sounds and sights around him. He might appear relaxed, but his other hand gripped his twin axes tightly, an indication of the distress and inner turmoil he was feeling. He was still trying to come to terms with all that had happened back home, still searching for answers to the questions that burned within him, a quiet, intense flame that consumed his every being, and now that he was here, in Magnoshuttatt, his problems only multiplied. Quietly, he muttered to himself.]
Can the way of the warrior lead me home, when I'm no longer the warrior I once was?
[Maybe you overheard him? Without his Qi, his senses had been dulled and it was more difficult to notice people, especially with his eyes closed like that. Or perhaps you're wondering why he's just standing outside his room like that, still wearing the Chinese armour he arrived in. At any rate, he looked like he needed someone to talk to.]
Magic.
He could barely wrap his head around these terms, to acknowledge their existence as real and fact. Not just some slight of hand or a cheap charlatan's trick. No, there were flying carpets, magic spells that could lift a man of his feet and send him flying in one direction if he resisted, a strange crystal that pushed back when he carefully placed his hands on the smooth surface, and the alien architecture and foreign words that he had to accept as his reality now.
They called him an Indigo Mage, a Strength Mage. He glanced down at his hand; a warrior's hand, covered in calluses and skin hardened and toughened through war and training. Flexing his fingers, he frowned, closing them to form a fist and straining to find his Qi; the energy that brought forth strength from within. But where there was once something, now there was nothing. It was like reaching for a tool, no, it was like trying to move an arm or a leg, only to find...nothing. It was as if his access to his Qi was blocked.
He leaned his head back on the wall he was resting on outside his assigned room 107, closing his eyes in an attempt to block out the sounds and sights around him. He might appear relaxed, but his other hand gripped his twin axes tightly, an indication of the distress and inner turmoil he was feeling. He was still trying to come to terms with all that had happened back home, still searching for answers to the questions that burned within him, a quiet, intense flame that consumed his every being, and now that he was here, in Magnoshuttatt, his problems only multiplied. Quietly, he muttered to himself.]
Can the way of the warrior lead me home, when I'm no longer the warrior I once was?
[Maybe you overheard him? Without his Qi, his senses had been dulled and it was more difficult to notice people, especially with his eyes closed like that. Or perhaps you're wondering why he's just standing outside his room like that, still wearing the Chinese armour he arrived in. At any rate, he looked like he needed someone to talk to.]
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[The cryptic tone is annoying; too reminiscent of Master Guo Jia. Zhang Liao could never tell when he had to take his lord's prized strategist seriously or not, and all the younger man would do is smile the same damn smile at him. Still, no need to get annoyed at someone just because they remind you of someone else. He's probably more annoyed at the lack of proper respect shown from a junior to an elder, but slowly he's realising that the children here seem more outspoken, that it appears to be the norm. This of course doesn't spare the brunet a slight lecture from Zhang Liao though.]
You need not concern yourself with such matters. It is more important for you to study hard so you may obtain a civil office and provide for your family.
[The young brunet is...a boy, right? A second look later and Zhang Liao still can't really decide. Silently, he wonders why gender roles are so confused in Magnoshutatt: the women were manly, and the men were feminine.]
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[For nations they... do not. Probably. Maybe they do - it is really hard to tell when you believe in the whole thing of "don't believe that someone is dead before you have seen their body" because with nations simply walking away at the end of their "lives", nobody HAS ever seen the body of a permanently dead nation.
And the smile won't go away, either. Simply because smiles are a good thing, right?] And I already have a civil office, so to say. Not here, but back home. ...I'm not quite sure if they exist here in the way in which they exist on Earth, actually. [Kiwi'll have to look into that.]
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And you are not human?
[Was he spirit, fairy, mystic, immortal or demon? Home for the being in front of him was definitely not where Zhang Liao considers it to be.]
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[NZ shrugs and waves the issue away.] Or you could ask China, he's had the longest to think about it.
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I have yet to face a demon who feeds on humans, but I have fought plenty of men who have claimed to have the strength of a demon.
[Fought on the side of one of them, even.]
I will not hesitate to cut you down, though you may appear to be a youth. If this...China is your leader, you would do well to tell him that no man will be touched while Zhang Liao walks these halls.
[Strange. A demon with the name of his country; perhaps they sought to take advantage of his love for the land? A foolish plot. He is not so sentimental to be blinded by such fake titles.]
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It is rather unfair to threaten an unarmed person like that, don't you think? And China might have had the strenght to lead the globe a long time ago, but not anymore. You seem to be from his place?
[Simply ignoring the swords for now while trying to figure out how to make them go away, all the while trying to learn more about this man so the "making them go away" will be possible more easily.] And we aren't demons. Thinking of us as spirits of countries might serve you the best in a place this removed from home. [It's not really what they are, but in a place where they don't exist in most people's homeworlds, it is hard to explain what exactly they are.]
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[He's watching you New Zealand; one wrong move and he won't hesitate.]
I am a loyal servant of the Han Empire but the land I walk on is also known as China, the Middle Kingdom. Are you saying that the spirit of my home walks these halls?
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And China is here, I spoke to him a while ago - aside from being away from his land and people, which is cruel on all of us, he seemed to be rather well. I'm sure he'd love to meet at least one of his children. [The nation won't mention that they seem to be from different times, that would just complicate things unnecessarily at this point.]
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Very well, then I will retract my accusation and I humbly apologize. Perhaps I was too hasty, but in a land rife with dark arts it is difficult for me to trust any who claim to be anything other than human.
If you are, as you say, spirits that are born of a land and it's people, then I will look forward to meeting this...China.
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I should probably take into consideration that people will be form places where demons exist in the future. [They have Russia, but that is a different thing.]
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[That's easier to say and remember than "New Zealand". And he attached the "Master" at the back, because disrespecting spirits is a big crime back home.]
I will remember your advice and approach the others with a more open mind.
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This world is strange, and some of those that come to it even stranger, for all of is.
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Forgive me for my presumptions, but I must ask. As a spirit, can you not open a path out of this gilded prison with your abilities? Or are you here of your own free will? If you have information on how to break this spell, then you will forever have Zhang Liao's gratitude.
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...We can't even feel our people anymore. [Which is probably the worst - or best - definitely the weirdest thing here. Having yourself to yourself, decisions and sentiments only being made by oneself, is an odd and new thing to the nation.]
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I understand, Master Kiwi. I will ask no more about it.
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[There is a shrug, and then the smile is back, trying to push the bad feelings away because they won't help.] At least this place is peaceful, that probably has to count for something. And the people are mostly nice or at least friendly enough.
Until we manage to get back home, there could be worse places to be stuck in. [Implied is that even though going back home means to go back to a bloody battlefield - when your people need you, you cannot hesitate to take that chance.]