View source for Lan Zi in Malek

Lanzi slept uneasily, dreaming of Yishmay and constantly worrying about her safety.  He had been away too long.  He yearned for her to be near, to feel her touch, smell her perfume, but most of all to see her deep, dark eyes once more.  Strangely he felt death close at hand; this was unlike how he felt when the mighty Tun Mi Lung crushed him and spat him into the writhing foam…no, this was more subtle than that.  It was a creeping despondency; a malice which was just beyond comprehension, just beyond reach.  What was it?  Nega was no longer guarded it was true but Lanzi knew that city’s defences to be strong. No, it was not a threat to Nega that troubled his sleep; it was a direct but, as yet, unarticulated threat to Yishmay.  Lanzi knew well of the ninja – indeed hadn’t Iki Moko been one?  If she were one of the three as the Party believed should he not protect her?  What was he doing cavorting across the Prime on a glorified treasure hunt?  They were betrothed after all…


How did it come to this?  His rise had been truly meteoric.  It seemed like yesterday that the young Lanzi roamed the mountainous lands around Vorsaykarai listening to the spirits and delighting in catching his food.  How did a poor peasant child, involved in nothing more than the daily basic challenge of living, end up as one of the most powerful Mages on the Prime, betrothed to a Princess (or was she now a Queen?) and involved in one of the greatest challenges of the last 7 Ages?  What was the use of reflection? Surely they needed to act…But how?


His sleep was disturbed by visions, most of which Lanzi proved unable to recall.  But there was one – the most frightening – which he recalled all too well.  He saw the great Demon, Demogorgon, standing on a hill in what appeared to be the Madur Mountains peering through the smoke of war at the broken walls of Nega.  One of the Demon’s heads stared down at the naked form of Yishmay prostrate on the broken ground before him.  Lanzi could see the torn skin, broken bones and disfigured face of the once beautiful oriental princess.  His heart sank as he realised that she was dead.   


He woke with a start, cold and miserable, the memory of the dream all too real.  Images of Yishmay shot through his mind again.  She was not safe; no, not even Dracor Augusta would keep her from the Demon.  Their path was bound to these ‘blooms’, they knew them to be of sufficient importance that the enemy would risk all to send them to feed Hel’s desire. Was she really so important?  Was she really a ‘bloom’?  It was true, like the others she had suffered imprisonment and she had a power to last beyond Ragnarak; unlike the others, she was human.  Had they overlooked their centre of gravity once before only to see it fall to their enemy? He remembered something long forgotten.  A vision he received when but a mere youth, chasing rabbits across the foothills of Vorsaykarai.  He was wreathed in mist, the cloud spirits communing with him.  As if he was the only human alive.  It was something that happened often in those innocent days; so often that he paid it little heed.  The memory they returned was of his real mother.   Lanzi recalled the vision: his mother sat beside a richly dressed Samurai, conducting a tea ceremony.  It is clear that the armour the samurai wears is now adorning the Cleric.  It was a time of peace and the armour was worn for the ceremony.  Lanzi was recalling an image of his mother Marsui, his father’s concubine, before she became pregnant and fearful for the life of her child.  The ceremony was conducted in silence but the looks that passed between the two told a story.  They were sad; it was obvious that they were soon to part.  Toronaga would be going to battle – hence the ceremonial armour – and they did not expect him to return.  This must have happened often as Toronaga was a well-respected and valiant warrior.  Should Yishmay and Lanzi have conducted such a ceremony at his parting?  Was he the warrior that his father would have desired him to be?  He could not have been as easily corrupted as his half-brother Tuar Chan, could he?


Getting up, Lanzi did not feel free of the spirits so he meditated to bring them back in a more controlled way.  Lighting a brazier and adding powder to make it smoke heavily, Lanzi sat back with a pipe and relaxed.  The spirits came to him when he was well rested and care free – just like them.  At first things seemed troubled, the air elements were in chaos and at war with fire.  The trusted para-elemental spirits in between were both frightened and fierce.  Probing, Lanzi was quick to learn that he was at the heart of it.  Whilst appealing to his chaotic nature, he was concerned.  As Lanzi reached out to the spirits his mind was captivated by a strong vision.


“I have her now, plucked from the bosom of friendship…” A voice emanated from a palantir, stood on a pedestal in the middle of a dimly-lit, sparsely furnished room. 

“Ahh, well done.  You must bring her to me; I will enjoy extracting information from her before she meets my queen.”  A female Drow moved into the light emerging from the gently glowing orb.

“Iie (EE-eh) Hime, I have a different offer…A better offer.”  

The Drow’s expression gave little away but she paused before continuing with a thin-veiled threat, “Do not play with me Itsuki-san, I am no ordinary elf.”

“Iie Hime, I know exactly who…what you are.”  The confidence remained; the confidence of someone given little choice in the path to follow.
She moved away from the light to hide her anger, “Then you’ll know what I am capable of, and what trouble you’ll call upon yourself if you were to cross me.”

Nothing seemed to convince the voice, “I have protection which will defy all you could throw at me, besides things have changed.  I would rather honour my end of the deal, Hime, but I have been given little choice.  Apparently the Demon will pay handsomely for the young Queen, defend me from your will and ensure I have plenty of work.  However, if I defy him, I’ll be dead by winter.”

The Drow moved again to the orb, “Aah, which Demon do you speak of?”

“That will be the baboon, or should that be the baboons..?”  A chuckle.

The Drow brushed a hair from a beautiful face, “Bring her to me and I will protect you, honour your achievement and ensure you have wealth and power beyond even your imaginings.  Indeed, if it is work you crave, Itsuki-san, I can ensure a steady stream of that.”

The reply was measured, “The Demon is closer and the journey less perilous for that.”

“I can bring you here swiftly; where are you?”  The Drow failed to hide her need for haste.

“Aahh, not so fast, Hime.”  Lanzi saw the image which the Drow was addressing in the Palantir.  It was clearly a ninja.

“You can trust me Itsuki-san, something which we both know not easily said about the Demon.”  Her tone was flat, giving nothing away.
There was a pause before the answer, “That’s just it Hime, I trust none of you.  I would honour my commission but not at the expense of my life.  How would you expect me to travel to you unnoticed by the Demon?”


The vision breaks and Lanzi is left with an impression of Yishmay waiting for a noble death.