Oswaldo
As the day continued, so too did the stream of visitors into Masanori's yurt. In some ways, that was comforting. The weight of duty was a familiar one to him. When he first arrived in the City of Stories, he was without purpose or direction. He wandered, aimless and lost, until purpose manifested itself in the wake of the ambassador's death. Only then was he able to begin the long task of bringing a city of sin and villainy to heel. And with the passing of winter into spring and spring into summer, that most lofty of goals seemed to grow ever closer. The Iuchi were to be thanked for the speed of their couriers. Word had managed to reach the homelands quickly enough, and already he had a response in regards to the mobilization of forces he had requested. A few would soon be arriving in the city.

Perhaps that was why he perked up from the monotony of the day's work when his manservant, Ryo, informed him of the arrival of a new Shiotome. Ordinarily, he would redirect all such women to his sister's command. But they were not operating under ordinary assumptions. He needed a task force of seasoned bushi of impeccable character and a breadth of knowledge of lightning warfare. Few met those criteria half so well as those of his kin.

"See that her horse is stabled and she is allowed to freshen up from the journey. Then bring her to me."

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. Some distance from the fire pit, he sat waiting, a low table at his front. He had spent much of the day inking documents, but given that he would soon be in the company of kin, it was likely he would set aside some time to offer hospitality. All that he needed to wait for was her inevitable appearance. 

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Richard
Ryo helped the new arrival to the stable and then to a washroom so that she could clean off the dust of the road. Then he brought the woman, Utaku Homura, to his master for presentation. Homura gave a hint of a smile when she saw Masanori, and strode forward to greet him, hesitating a moment before bowing rather than thrusting out her hand in greeting.

"I, Utaku Homura, am at your service. Thank you for your hospitality."

As she straightens up, Masanori might note that her purple armor more on the traditional Rokugani side than the fur-lined leathers that many of her clan and family chose to wear.
Oswaldo
The appearance of the Shiotome was something of an oddity. Few samurai chose to don their armor a second time before meeting with their superior, especially on the grounds of an embassy. Oddity though it was, it was something of a comforting oddity. It had been a long while since Masanori had experienced the stark militarism of Shiro Utaku Shojo, where many of his sisters wore their armor as if it were a second skin. Having a subordinate present themselves in such a way, while dwelling within a yurt strewn with documents of command, almost reminded him of home. A welcome reminder.

Rising to his full height, he readily accepted Homura's hand, shaking it firmly before gesturing with his other hand for her to sit across from him at his low desk. While the two samurai became acquainted with one another, the slight figure of Masanori's heimin servant maneuvered around the two of them, placing two bowls of black tea between them.

"I am glad you found your way to the city with such haste, Utaku-san. Shall I assume the journey was uneventful?"

It was an honest question. He expected that the Scorpion would be on high alert for any Unicorn samurai making their way down the roads between Sekitsu Pass and Ryoko Owari Toshi. The fact that her armor remained unmarred and pristine assured him that if there had been trouble, it did not warrant worry.

"And, on that same note, shall I assume you have been briefed as to your purpose here?"

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Richard
"I was told that you required assistance and made haste here, though I'm afraid the missive I was given was vague for fear of falling into the wrong hands," She reports, standing at attention.

"I chose to blend in among a merchant caravan that was headed through the city as I made my way here, so I likely avoided any notice. I would appreciate it if you could inform me of my duties while I am here."

She was stiff in her demeanor, as if she wasn't used to standing on ceremony and was doing her best to try and follow the rules of decorum.