Ryoko Owari Toshi.
No city in the Empire has such a reputation. It is a city of vice, a city of lies, a city of stories and a city of law. The Scorpion and Unicorn have contested its possession for generations, with one seizing control only to lose it to the other time and time again. It seemed that the cycle would continue unabated for decades to come until an arrangement between the ever-ambitious Khan and the Master of Secrets finally awarded the city’s governance to the Scorpion. The Clan of Secrets controls the City of Lies, now and always.

The decision has not been uncontested. The honorable Unicorn governor, Shinjo Osema, petitioned the Khan numerous times to reconsider his decision, but the Khan refused. Chagatai did allow the Shinjo to maintain their holdings within the city, however, and as such a strong Unicorn presence within the city.

Moto Ogedei is an unpleasant man. He enjoys spending his leave in the City of Lies, drinking his fill of sake and engaging in the occasional brawl with anyone unfortunate enough to catch his eye. He has a reputation for a braggart and a lout, and that is exactly how he wishes it. His true purpose is to gather information on the city’s seedy underbelly for the Khan. Nothing illicit moves throughout the city without Ogedei attempting to discover its origin, composition, and destination.

Bayushi Moyotoshi serves his lord in the manner of a true Scorpion. He deals with problems in a manner that is permanent and discrete, and no one ever connects these unpleasant acts with the Scorpion. Now, certain elements within the Scorpion Clan have determined that Ogedei is a problem, and have dispatched Moyotoshi to deal with the matter.

Ryoko Owari Toshi, the Fisherman’s Quarter

To describe an establishment such as The Weary Traveler as an inn would be a bit of a misnomer by any stretch of the imagination. A more precise description might be to call it a decrepit old building where men too drunk to stand up any longer collapsed into a heap and slept until the middle of the next day. Moto Ogedei smiled at the thought as he stumbled up the stairs toward his room. His apparent stupor was mostly an act, of course, as he had long since developed an almost Crab-like tolerance for the watery slop the Scorpion called sake. Still, appearances were important.

As the massive Unicorn staggered to hi room, his mind raced with the things he had uncovered in the previous few evenings revelry. He felt that he was close, very close, to discovering the identity of the Scorpion criminal that was distributing illicit narcotics in the southern Unicorn provinces. All he needed was a name. The Khan cared little for proof, and when Ogedei supplied him with the name, he knew full well what his orders would be. The criminal would die for his crimes, and badly. Even if he was not the one who oversaw the distribution, his death would be an example. Ogedei smiled at the thought. He walked into his darkened room and picked up a bottle of sake left over from the night before. He slowly lifted it to his lips…

…then turned and hurled it at the shadowy figure waiting in the darkened corner of the room. The figure darted from one end to the next, coming to rest atop a large chest in the opposite corner. “My compliments,” the black clad man whispered. “Few have ever detected me before I chose to reveal myself.”

“Few,” Ogedei grunted, drawing a long blade from behind his back. “I’ll wager I’ll be the first to kill you.”

The shadow laughed. “Is that what passes for humor in the Moto lands? No wonder you come here to escape.”

Ogedei snarled and leapt for his adversary, but the Scorpion was too fast. Bayushi Moyotoshi leapt easily over the charging Unicorn’s back, stepping on his head as he did and driving the warrior’s head down into the wooden surface of the chest where he had been standing. Ogedei grunted in pain and growled like a feral beast. “You will suffer, and so will your masters.”

“The only suffering I will endure is a few more moments of your company,” Moyotoshi said dryly. He evaded another charge as the Unicorn, whose reflexes were perhaps a bit more dulled than he would like to believe, crashed heavily into the wall, prompting a shout of irritation from the room next door.

The almost comedic display continued unabated for another minute or two, with the would-be assassin nimbly avoiding his target’s attacks, and the Unicorn destroying virtually everything in the room in the process. Finally, an enraged Ogedei shouted “Coward! Are you afraid to face me?”

“No,” Moyotoshi said in the same low voice. “I simply have no need to.”

“What?” Ogedei bellowed.

“It is simple, which is fortunate for you,” Moyotoshi said. “Every day for the past ten days, I have placed a small amount of poison in your sake. After today, you finally have a lethal dose in your system, but for it to take effect, you must exert yourself fully, which you have just done.”

Ogedei’s heaving breath caught in his throat, his hand frozen as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “That’s ridiculous,” he said. “Who would concoct something so convoluted?”

“Convoluted, true,” Moyotoshi admitted, never dropping his guard. “But this poison cannot be detected by any means, and its bitter taste requires it to be spread out to avoid detection. Now, you will die, and it will be assumed that your excesses simply took their toll on your body. A tragic end to so fine a warrior.”

“Fool!” Ogedei screamed, lunging toward the Scorpion. In mid-lunge, however, he staggered, clutched his chest, and fell to the ground. He writhed in pain for a moment, his face drained of all color.

“The part that I find most amusing,” Moyotoshi whispered, “is that there is no evidence that I was ever in this room. I have inflicted no wounds, nor left any trace of my passage. It will be assumed that you were so drunk that you hallucinated, and your heart gave out from the strain.” He paused. “Will your sons be proud of you, oh great Fist of the Khan?”

Ogedei snarled weakly and tried to reach up for the assassin, but could not.

“I hope they, at least, are wise enough to leave the Scorpion to their own affairs,” Moyotoshi said, crossing the room to the tiny window. “If they are, then they may live to see the monastery. Unlike you. Goodbye, Moto Ogedei. As you die, please remember that you were little more than an annoyance.”

Bayushi Moyotoshi slipped through the window into the cold Ryoko Owari Toshi night. Moto Ogedei spasmed one last time, and was still.