“One might say that about life too.” In her line of work, whether it was playing music for those recently departed, or becoming lost within the endless depths in the criminal underworld, she became painfully aware of mortality. Lives were lost every day; some natural, some taken. In truth, it was no less transient than the small saccharine slips of paper that soared the air in passing seconds, before finally slumbering on the ground.

Still, the manner with which the man responded had seemed almost out of place, as his words seemed to wrestle with a certain unfamiliarity. She wondered if the seemingly solitary man had indulged himself in other celebrations, or had reprieve of this kind simply escaped him in his responsibilities? Or perhaps still, he hailed from somewhere else, and thus the traditional use of confetti in festive affairs as these was not one he’d claim as his own.

—Suddenly, she heard footfall approaching them; a tumultuous sound as if to bring the ground to slightly tremble with each step. It was the host of the event that had freshly departed the stage. While his stature had still seemed imposing upon her previous view of the stage, the man was mountainous as he stood before them. There was another thing that caught her eye. Now that she was closer to him, she noticed that the scar he brandished on one side of his face had also been home to what was in all likelihood a prosthetic to replace a missing eye, with an eyeball of clear white that gazed in his facing direction.

The man did not walk the festival grounds alone; there was a blue furred feline-like creature on his shoulder, with dark blue antlers protruding from its forehead. It was quite the curious sight. The creature had a certain majestic nature about it, but she could not discern the species and yet it appeared perfectly domesticated and as regal as whom it accompanied.

The festival host greeted the solitary man beside her as a trusted companion, noting him as Griswold. The host then extended another welcome to all those in the vicinity, Sayuri included, to the fanfare of a handful of cheers.

“Thank you for hosting the event,” She said with the flash of a smile.

The man known as Griswold greeted the host back—apparently the host’s first name was Magnus. As they exchanged their greetings, Griswold poked, nuzzling the magnificent creature on Magnus’ shoulder as he spoke of praise not only in hosting the festival but also in acquiring an elemental spirit.

"Elemental Spirit…" She considered the words with a visible, pensive expression . She hadn’t heard of the concept before, but here it was, apparent in its presence. She thought the 'elemental spirit' was adorable, and she might have reached out to pet it if it didn’t find its perch on its towering seven-foot tall owner’s shoulders.

Griswold continued his statement, offering a forewarning of a wayward presence with motivations that could not yet be discerned by his judgment. Upon his words, the image of the man concealed in a shadowy hood and cloak and a face masked by cloth flashed in her mind. Could that be who Griswold is talking about?… No, he used the word ‘some’ as opposed to ‘one’—there might be more people he’s concerned about here… In any case, it wasn’t a concern that belonged to her. It was very likely that she wasn’t one of the aforementioned people. The Funeral Company had no motives in interfering with the festival, and she wasn’t one to commit crimes unless at their behest; orders she took out of an obligation to the organization. Even in spite of her disposition, recklessly committing a crime without the approval of a Grim went against their prudence, harboring consequence should the act draw unwarranted attention toward the true nature of their organization.

—Magnus snapped her out of her musings with an offer of a meal served on skewers that she had never seen before.


He held up three servings of takoyaki, and offered them with the same cheery manner in his tone that he had since the conversation began. Griswold was the first to take one.

As she took in the savory scent of fried dough and tempura, her stomach rumbled, demanding to be appeased. She took one. “Oh, thank you, Magnus~” She had gotten carried away listening to the music around the festival grounds, but her stomach was not as distracted by whimsical melodies as her mind was.

She took a small bite.

The batter was slightly crispy and there was a mildly sweet sauce that the meal seemed to have been lightly brushed with. She took another bite. The Takoyaki melted in her mouth, unraveling into a soft and gooey mixture of the savory flavor of fish, the peppery sweet ginger, and the mix of vegetables that seemed to conjoin and punctuate the flavor. She found herself to have quickly scarfed down the rest.

“Wow! I’ve never had something like this before.” She said, holding the skewer in her hands until she’d find a place to dispose of it. “I really enjoyed that, thanks again!”

Griswold, after trying the meal for himself, would also chime in.


Perhaps Griswold was right. There were still quite a few activities to be had; and exploring the festival grounds had only begun.  "It was nice to meet both of you, Griswold, Magnus," She turned to face them respectively.  — Oh, she had nearly gone another conversation without offering her name, the last time she did so she earned a dreadful nickname by another mischievous rogue.  "By the way, my name is Sayuri." Perhaps it didn't matter, the knights seemed to be of such import that they might not concern themselves with the girl; she was, after all, one person among many attending the festival—and there was still much of the festival to enjoy.








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WC: XXXX
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[attr="class","statheaderred"] Sayuri's Stats

POWER 014 DURABILITY 009 STAMINA 012 SENSORY 005 CONTROL 015

SPEED 5 m/s STRENGTH 1/2 Junior

MANA SKIN senior HEALTH senior

CASTING LIMIT	2
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MANA POOL	44
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MANA REGEN	20 IC | 10 OOC
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