The shrine clung to the edge of a mountain's peak, dark walls scattered with faint lights like so many stars, flickering yellowish candlelight shimmering against imposing walls and barred gates. Two pairs of dubious eyes looked up to the imposing edifice, tracing the lines of its jagged walls and patrolling guards. "Kensho… if this is a shrine, then I'm the emperor himself."
"Shrine? I'm pretty sure there are fortresses out there less defensible than this." Inari just nodded in agreement. "I'm honestly not sure how we're supposed to get in there."
"Well…" a smirk graced Kisoi's face. "Perhaps- simpler is better, isn't it?"
Not half an hour later they stood before the imposing gates, two samurai and a fox adorned in full regalia under the scrutinizing gaze of the gatekeepers. Their presence was imposing, the glare of seasoned warriors quietly judging- undermined only a little by the pastel pink of their armor. Someone clearly hadn't gotten the memo about appropriate colors for evil oppressors. "Samurai Kisoi and Kensho of Black Mountain Shrine, requesting entrance on pilgrimage to… uh… Blood Ocean Shrine!"
"This is Cherry Shrine." The poor woman stationed on the wall looked almost confused. Clearly, as a pseudo-militant banditry organization they didn't often have to deal with legitimate travelers and pilgrims. "You continue on your way to… uh- hold on-" a hand reached up and dragged her down behind the wall, faint whispers of conversation inaudible to the duo below. "I guess you can come in, then."
"Thank you for your hospitality." They slipped through a crack in the gates, entering a busy compound- followed by Inari, who entered a dead silent compound, frozen as the warriors and shrine-keepers stared in frozen trepidation at the ball of fuzzy orange floof. For a long second, she was still, and the others remained still in kind. Her ear twitched, and someone jumped, quickly turning away- the first of many until the entire courtyard was nigh-completely barren.
Kensho was the first to recover, frown plastered across her face. "...odd. There was never quite that bad of a reaction to her at Black Mountain Shrine."
"Well, Black Mountain Shrine was a highly prestigious holding of warriors famed across the empire, not a agglomeration of petty bandits pretending to worship the local kami. They probably had a little more confidence in themselves." Shrugging, Kisoi pulled Kensho into the fortresses' winding corridors, watching warily as the twists and turns grew dizzying and all too vertical. Someone had too much fun in building this place. "...and, I'm not sure how we're supposed to do anything-"
"Perhaps we don't need to do-" Kisoi shushed her silently, pulling them both into a small side-room furnished with an few unused cots and nothing else before she allowed her to continue speaking- "...right, what I meant to say was we don't need to actually fight them if we get enough evidence. We can bring our case before the Magistrate of the southern oceans. His authority over these lands is absolute."
"That's a great idea, but how exactly are we supposed to get information about their nefarious plans if they’re hiding it? Or, even, just generally being obstructive in any way, shape or form?” There was a brief moment of silence as they thought before they- in almost disturbing tandem- turned to look at Inari.
Inari, for her part, looked back. Unimpressed, the looking continued from the two samurai. Inari slowly shook her head
“Yeah, she agrees. Take this scroll-” Kensho gently pried open her mouth and put the scroll in it, only for it to tumble out and onto the floor- “some ink, and count the number of warriors in the shrine. And, while you’re at it, draw a map of the entire layout. A. map.” She spoke slowly, pointing out to the different components she’d shoved into Inari’s paws while the fox merely looked back with an unimpressed glare. “Great! …thanks?”
“Are you sure this is going to work?”
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Kensho eyed Inari, who’d curled up with her head on her paws, clearly asleep. “...yep. Totally.”
………
“Curse their puppy eyes… foolish children, asking their pet fox to perform surveillance on their enemies…”
{ISON-II note - APC liaison: You could have just… not. And you can do this, even in a fox’s body, can’t you?}
Kitsune carefully shimmed across a crack in the ceiling, carefully keeping to the shadows away from what few flickering lights lit the fortress at night. Ever so often she’d flick her tail across the partially unrolled scroll, marking down a few sparse details. “Of course I can.” She stilled for a moment as one of the shrine’s warriors trudged through the hallway beneath her, never thinking to look up. “I’ve been doing this for billions of years- frankly, if I couldn’t do so simple a task, Sija would have won a long time ago.”
{ISON-II note - APC liaison: If I could actually look through this membrane, then I’d have been able to give you exact numbers in an instant.}
“Reality is too entrenched here for that.” She bounded from wall to wall in four concise, silent leaps, crouching on a windowsill before slipping out into the freezing winter night. The twinkling starlight was barely enough to capture the profile of the fortress, much less give actual details. Luckily they’d asked Kitsune, and millennia of experience certainly helped when it came to filling out details. “Hmm… that’s that, and the interior layout… patrol routes? Or is that overkill…”
{ISON-II note - APC liaison: Every part of this is overkill. They’re not going to be able to dismiss you as unintelligent anymore.}
Kitsune smirked, inking the guard change down under a rather cute drawing of parallel moons. “You’d be surprised what ‘poor’ drawing skills and using ideograms instead of actual text can do for making someone believe something. They’ll never suspect a thing.” Her eyes glanced across the incredibly detailed report on the Cherry Shrine, and she barely restrained a wince. “Well… they won’t have too many suspicions. Maybe one or two.”
As she ducked back into the fortress-shrine, she got the distinct impression that APC was decidedly unamused.
………
Brightly dawned the morning, resplendent with the sounds of marching feet and the howling winds, shining snow sending glitters of light gleaming through busy hallways. "Mornin'... wake up, Kisoi." A few seconds, interrupted by a gentle shove. "Wake up!"
"Wha…?" Blinking, she pulled herself to her feet, not quite cognizant in the wake of settling lethargy. "Kensho? I thought we were going to… did Inari?" The fox still lay asleep, curled up asleep with her tail tucked neatly beneath herself, peaceful and looking far too well rested. "That is so unfair. Come on, time to go…"
"We should have done this ourselves." A sigh rippled in the still air between them as Kensho repacked the ink and scroll, scowl written clearly across her face. "Absolutely no way would they let us stick around for a few more days. Not with how good the weather is."
"Yeah! Cursed good weather! How dare the sun shine and the winds blow! Don't they know who I am?" Inari rolled her eyes as she rolled over, hopping up to Kensho's shoulder with naught but a few half-hearted complaints about too much weight, balance, and other such inconsequential trivialities.
"We'll just have to keep an eye on them- take the long way out, try and remember how many different faces we run across. Maybe we can get the magistrate to authorize an inquisition." Went unsaid was that maybe they couldn't.
They left the fortress to the suspicious, fearful gazes of pink-clad soldiers, samurai in viscous regalia. They ventured back down to the vast forests to the raising light of the sun, ember-bright on the vast firmament above. To the wind and worn path, to the prickling knowledge that it couldn't have, had not been enough- to the memories of blood on a hard-worn street, senseless attacks and unnecessary poverty. They left to the snow and journey's unending end.
Seven hours and a lot of moping later, Kensho was the first to discover that Inari had, in fact, filled out an incredibly detailed report on the Cherry Shrine. For a long moment she frowned at the fox, plodding so lightly behind them, then back to the scroll. Then, to the fox.
Not suspicious. Not suspicious at all.