<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;">Celebrations Interrupted</span></span></div><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/k4fmpt9.jpg)</div>Mitsuyo attended, out of honor and respect. Such holidays were all the more troubling for her. She wanted to just cut loose and have fun, but when she tried she saw her friends, family, and villagers looking down sternly. In their judgmental eyes she could see them asking why she was resting on her laurels instead of making Golarion safer. The joys of her past life were left at the grand shrine of Iomedae, the dolls and wooden swords of her youth at the foot of their empty gravestones.<br/><br/>Mitsuyo took solace in the fact that those who gave sacrifices like her parents were so honored on this day. Medals and holidays were personally unnecessary, for such memories always persisted in her mind; but for the rest of the population and wider Golarion, they were a necessity to remind people of what had been lost and what will be lost if we lose vigilance.<br/><br/>The twin blades were drawn at the call of the silver dragon. Drawing upon the teachings of the Golden Lion Mitsuyo's warning shout stopped a fleeing peasant in her tracks as a pit not eight feet in front of her disgorged infernal smoky hands. Like Terendelev's erratic movements in the air, she mimicked the Swift Claws of a Thrashing Dragon as her rapier stabbed forth, her kukri swung in from the side. Neither were holy nor wrought of cold iron, but with an assumed stance she lowered her defenses to cut ever deeper into its flesh with an Outer Sphere Stance.<br/><br/>The dretch was dead, the peasant know behind the twin shields of nearby Hellknights. But off in the distance a local baker slumped to the ground, stabbed through the heart by a scorpion-like javelin. A war hound howled in pain as a globule of foul greenish muck (spittle or spell?) sloughed off its flesh like wet paper. She saved one life, only to let several more die...<br/><br/>The doubt lasted only a half-second, as again Mitsuyo rushed forth again to the sounds of more screams and the scent of blood. It came from a simple dwelling near the cathedral, a humble sight in the face of greatness were it not for the scene of carnage. Diving through broken glass, the Tian-blooded zealot came face to face with a single tall, slime-coated demon with a wicked glaive in its hands. An entire family and their dog lay in dissolving puddles around a family table. Without thinking she rushed the monster...<br/><br/>the glaive slashed across her belly, between the slip in the armored coat she wore.<br/><br/>Her flesh screamed.<br/><br/>The demon laughed.<br/><br/>She tried to roll past it and stab at its ankles. It jumped out of the way and onto the table.<br/><br/>Its eyes flashed yellow. Smile full of needles, not teeth.<br/><br/>It made a thrusting motion with its spear, only to draw back before it could hit her as Mitsuyo stood up, causing her to fall back. It was toying with her.<br/><br/>Mitsuyo stood up, spat up the blood congealing in her mouth like a traveler having finished their chewing tobacco. No words, only action. She raised her rapier, and her kukri in a defensive cross, awaiting the demon's next move...<br/><br/>There was no next move. The ground rumbled as Terendelev and Storm Lord careened towards the ground outside. The demon with the glaive seemed to notice, as it briefly looked back out of the window. There it was her, chance to strike. Mitsuyo pushed one foot off the ground to leap, and then the ground gave way, the walls fell apart, as a giant tear-an abyss-ripped through the neighborhood...<br/><br/><hr/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;">And in the Now</span></span></div><br/>Mitsuyo took out a single gold piece and flicked it in the air before it fell back into her palm.<br/><br/>"That way," she said to Sebastian's statement. It probably came off pretty dumb, but figured that a little levity at this time could be good.<br/><br/>Hearing Nanaly's typically-pugnacious statement filled her with mixed feelings. On the one hand she was glad to hear that the tiefling was alive, but a bit irked that once again she's have to be the leash to reign her in.<br/><br/>"As much as your desire to tear apart demons is a commendable asset," Mitsuyo began, "we are buried under tons of rubble and have no clue how many await us, or if any of our comrades saw us buried."<br/><br/>And so she fumbled towards Sebastian's torch in the dark, scrunching the ground with her feet to feel for the ground in case of a sudden pitfall.<br/><br/>"Do you have any holy water?" she asked Sebastian. "Cold iron or sacred weapons, at least? The quartermaster did not see fit to entrust me with either of those yet. Hopefully you have some yourself."<br/><br/>This was always a sore sticking point. Their denial to Mitsuyo was on the grounds of their relative rarity and expense, even in a nation such as Mendev. They probably thought any such relic would be easily taken by demons if she died, distrustful of her zeal for fighting. Maybe they thought she was like Nanaly...<br/><br/>Shaking her head free of this last thought, she changed the subject. "Well let's go. As much as I hate to say it, we need to catch up to your tiefling friend. Don't want her exposing our position to the enemy when we're still recovering."