<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/VwYXW5c.jpg)</div><del><strong>Sesus Shaoji</strong></del><strong>Towering Oak</strong><br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Plantation<br/><strong>Anima:</strong>Dim<br/><strong>Tags:</strong>Sparrow<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Essence/Active Effects</div><div class="spoiler_body">Personal Essence 13/13<br/>Peripheral Essence 26/33<br/>Harmonious Presence Meditation (7m, +3 dice to all social influence)</div></div><hr/><br/>Prasad was a long fucking way from the Realm, but the worst of his ride was over.  He'd caught his fortunes on the tail of a Guild caravan, which had been lucky enough: there hadn't been any bandit raids, untoward weather, or completely boring conversationalists to have to share the carriage with, and plenty of folk to talk with along the way; he was welcome to sleep the rest of the ride (such as could be had on a carriage on occasionally-poor roads) and catch up on his reading, which of course was a briefer on what he knew he was going to be doing.  His entourage was fairly small by the time he'd separated from the caravan -- there was the driver, a few hired hands, and a body servant, suitable for someone of his 'noble station' -- and he'd met the house seneschal with the message suggesting why a prince of the distant Scavenger Lands was coming to pay his respects to a respected but very, very distant uncle.<br/><br/>The noble -- a man in his adulthood, grown and well-dressed in what passed for traveling styles, hair short and unkempt, an indifferent-measuring cast to his expression -- had just handed off the last of his baggage to the plantation's handlers.  The carriage oxen were to be stabled for the time being.  And he, guest that he was, had the run of the grounds as he awaited the pleasure of his host.<br/><br/>Towering Oak drew and released a long pull from his joint, letting the fragrant smoothness flow through his awareness.  This wasn't going to be an easy assignment, but he'd have to...<br/><br/>...be distracted, it seemed, by the finest thing he'd seen yet on his journey.<br/><br/>"Well, well, well," the man said dryly, a smirk pulling at the side of his lips, as he stepped forward to address the flat-out gorgeous woman who was strolling up the plantation road.  "I hope you're here for me, miss, because you're not, I'd hate to spend the next decade of my life desperately envious of who you -are- here for."