Alyssa
The Fortunes could be kind and cruel at once. Nothing reminded Masanori of that quite so much as the bureaucracy that followed a battle. The Unicorn had managed to repay the disgrace that was the Scorpion's ploy in winter and deal a crushing blow against the underworld of Ryoko Owari Toshi. It was as great a victory as they could hope for. Yet the Imperials seemed intent on trying to bleed every possible bit of joy from the very ones whom they had bid to handle their dirty work. Little surprise that some of the Great Clans had come to dread being made to interface with those most esteemed of the Imperial families, the Otomo chief among them. Not that any could admit such a thing. 

Such was the burden placed upon him by those very Imperials that the Utaku scarce had time to organize his affairs. But that would end swiftly. There were several things to address in the wake of the cartel raids, and after winning successful concessions from Daidoji Sho, he could finally see to them. While his brush danced across the paper carefully spread across his *Chabudai*, inking necessary correspondence, the voice of his manservant from the flap of his humble yurt alerted the officer to the first of the day's meetings. Steely eyes rose to greet the young heimin.

"Utaku-sama, Utaku Takeda-sama is here to see you. Shall I send him in?"

"Of course."

The temporary dwelling which had fast become Masanori's home was not an especially opulent place. The firepit burned low, heating a large cauldron that hung only inches from the embers below. With summer fast approaching, his appetite for milk tea had grown somewhat lesser. But there would be many guests in and out of his home for the day. Ryo, the serving boy, would see to getting the guests a bowl regardless.

"Utaku Takeda-san," Masanori's voice was stern as he addressed the shugenja, gesturing with his free hand to the comfortably folded quilt across from him at the low table, "Sit."

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Samuel
Takeda had barely had time to tend to the swelling from his wounds.

He had stayed behind to tend to the dead before being shooed away to get ready for the party before being told Masanori had wanted to see him. Now.

He didn't have a lot of fight left in him to begin with. Being shot a few times does that, but the news that the ambassadors Chui wanted to see him didn't fill him with happiness either.

And so he was here. Bowing low, saying nothing, and doing as he was told; sitting as commanded.

He knew this was like being sent to the sensei's office. He just hoped it wouldn't be the first of many such occurrences
Alyssa
Steely eyes followed the shugenja as he made his way toward the table. A few things were evident to him just from that brief little crossing of space. The cocksure swagger in his step was all but absent. Surely that indicated some sort of worry. Perhaps he even had the self-reflection to know why he was being called before his superior. Secondly... He was sore. That much was to be expected. Were he not a speaker of the kami, he would not have been called into the tent to begin with—either because he would have perished at the scene, or been too wounded to move on his own so soon.

But for better or for worse, he was one of those chosen few. Which made the discussion to come all the more important. 

As the younger Utaku settled down, Masanori continued to appraise him from across the table. Then, eventually, he redirected his eyes to the page before him and carefully dipped the tip of his brush into ink. Holding back the sleeve of his juban, the officer began to lay strokes upon the parchment as he spoke.

"That was your first taste of battle, was it not?"

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Samuel
Takedas eyes seemed to wander the room, looking anywhere but Masanori's or his parchment. When he spoke, it was carefully considered words, his tone quite different to his usual - slower, more deliberate.

"Hai." The Shugenja finally said "There was also a skirmish, more like an ambush on the road to the Burning Sands, but nothing of magnitude."

That had been a whirlwind of trying to survive and the caravan guards had had to just engage in several one on one fights rather than any organised defence.
Alyssa
"I see."

Masanori's response was curt, and he did not deign to remove his eyes from the parchment before him as he spoke it. His hand continued to dance across the page, slowing only between brush strokes as he laid out character after character. He allowed the silence between them to linger for a few long moments, before he stilled his hand and directed his eyes upwards, such that he could look back at Takeda.

"You might be forgiven for your failure, then. This time."

It was a harsh rebuke. But a necessary one, given the stakes. Mistakes were a matter of life—not even the Kami had maintained their divine perfection when they descended to Ningen-dō. But when lives were on the line, a single mistake could spell disaster not only for the one making it but those all around him. One could not be insulated entirely from such missteps, but one could be made to learn from them.

"This conflict has seen us far from home and short on manpower. I cannot afford to have warriors who foolhardily break formation and get themselves killed, much less *Shugenja*. Prove yourself a liability in the middle of battle again, and I will send you back to Qamar myself. Am I understood?"

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Samuel
"You are. Thank you." The Shugenja inclined his head in thanks that turned into a bow of sorts, though it pained the Shugenja to move in such a way.

"And I apologise, I thought it prudent at the time given the magic and the fog and that being my thing to assist in that manner." The Shugenja gave a wince "I can clearly see now it was not prudent at all."

"It will not happen again." The Shugenja intoned solemnly.

The Shugenja bit back on the comment about Qamar. *No. Now was not the time to bring Isei actually being home into this*.
Alyssa
"All samurai have a place in battle. Your place—the place of shugenja—is to remain in the rear and support the main body. You are a force multiplier. This also means you are a priority target for any enemy willing to shed the blood of a holy man."

It went without saying that the foes they encountered in the warehouse were willing to do so. A logical thing, if a distasteful one: they had received support from a shugenja of their own. Though, it was impossible to say whether or not the shugenja on the side of the cartels was present at the time of the raid, or had simply placed wards on the building as a matter of course. An issue for the Iuchi to discuss more than himself.

It seemed Takeda had taken the scolding in stride, at the very least. If the solemnness in his words was an act, then it was a better act than most young bucks offered when reprimanded by their superiors. Masanori's eyes lingered on his fellow Utaku for a few moments, and then returned to the page before him, his inking beginning once more.

"How are your wounds? You left the wharves on your own two feet, but you are not walking well."

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Samuel
"It's mostly swelling." The Shugenja responded, looking down at the bandages under his clothes "I will be somewhat ginger over the next few days, but I will be okay."

"I also pushed myself to do some cleanup for the funerary rites among our fallen."

What Takeda didn't mention, and would only mention if Masanori asked was he did so because the alternative was so much worse. Gaki, or worse, could smell blood air in the air and come running.

"I'll be fine, Utaku-sama." He repeated, as if confirming as much to himself as the older man.
Alyssa
"That is good. When we have concluded our business, seek out Ide Nobuko in the medical tent. Ask her for white willow tea—it will ease your discomfort while you heal."

The words came as naturally to Masanori as any veteran bushi. Not for his medical knowledge, which itself remained in its infancy until he could allot time to pour over the tomes offered by Moshi Fujiko. Rather, his was experience garnered over many years in the dojo. Some samurai insisted on weathering their wounds with blunt stoicism. Some considered the pain just recompense for their failures. Those samurai failed to acknowledge that the longer a warrior's recovery, the longer it was until he could be of use to his lord again. And the Unicorn did not live their lives slowly enough to wait for long.

"I will have need of you in the weeks to come. There are foul rumors spilling in from the countryside. Dark things rise under Lord Moon's gaze. Evil is lurking outside the walls, and I finally have the ability to address it," It was a testament to Masanori's growing mastery of calligraphy that he could brush with such grace while speaking, though he paused before continuing, "Have you ever encountered evil before? Fought it?"

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Samuel
"Surely there are others that have greater ne-" Takeda started and then saw Masanori's gaze and retreated accordingly. "Hai, I will."

But it was the next question that got Takeda. Had he ever encountered evil before?

Boy, had he.

Whether it was agitated spirits, rumours of beings from the other realms leaking into Rokugan.

"I have. I know some prayers and rituals to banish and how to fight them." Takeda nodded "It was a rather large part of my schooling."
Alyssa
"Spend the next week learning more. You will have need of every advantage, if this problem is as serious as the heimin lead me to believe it is."

The diligent little brush that had spent so long tracing lines across parchment finally found rest as Masanori placed it gingerly upon his inkstone. With the same gentleness, he picked the paper up by a corner and blew across it until the fine black pigment fully dried. Then, with care, he rolled it up and handed it across the table to Takeda.

"Once your business with Ide Nobuko has concluded, take this back to the bazaar with you and hand it to Suio Kenza or his ronin. Tell them it is to be fulfilled by the end of the week."

It would have been a simple thing to have Ryo run his dispatches for him, but efficiency was key in acting swiftly, and Takeda would like as not be returning to his duties once they had finished their business anyway. It hadn't even occurred to the freshly minted captain that his subordinate could have found the drawing up of requisition orders nerve-wracking. 

"When the time is upon us, I will send for you again. Until then, that will be all, Utaku-san," A fresh sheet of parchment found its way onto the desk between them as Masanori prepared to draft another letter, although he did glance up at the shugenja once more before dipping his brush, "Unless you have something else to speak of?"

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Samuel
"I do, actually." Takeda heard himself say aloud as he watched the other piece of parchment make its way onto the desk, determined to, for good reasons of course, have that parchment have his name on it.

"I'd like to see if we can try employing acolytes from among the leather workers quarter." Takeda voiced his idea out loud.

"I am cleaning the Bazaar, but there are other wards I have kept to further assist the spiritual security. These are fire wards." The Ward of Purity was a basic spell most Shugenja knew. Takeda had been using a few among the main thoroughfares practically since his arrival "It requires feeding the fire every so often, which is fine, but can be time consuming."

"So, acolytes can be used to maintain, but importantly it also makes us look good to the leather workers quarter." Takeda explained "By starting to employ from the district we demonstrate our compassion, and our want to assist the people, which has always been our clans purview."