Two katanas and a thin jade beam strike the little oni almost at once. Its legs flail for a moment before it collapses to the floor. Darting a look into the room you see three young women dressed in Crane colours, and an older woman, perhaps a servant or nanny of some kind, huddled behind dressing screens, flinging improvised missiles at whatever appears in the doorway.<br/><br/>The floor is covered with broken crockery, half painted masks, spilled paints, shredded costumes, and what appears to be a broken paper-mache Dragons head. They seem quite hysterical, as you duck back to avoid being splashed by a jar of bright blue paint and a wooden hairbrush.