[center][h1][img]https://i.imgur.com/yNRxTGd.png[/img][/h1][hr][hr][/center]

Z watched with great interest as the Dorf removed a paper from the tome before he handed it to her. Her interest in the secrets of others was purely professional. She had found that what others tried to hide could be valuable if discovered and brought to the attention of the right buyer. And while it was distasteful to engage in such subterfuge, it would not impede her honor. There were no alliances between the Stationari of her clan and those of the diminutive rainbow warrior.

Printed across the pages in faded ink she saw familiar numbers and symbols. Formulas of the ancients and blessed statistics. The joy she felt at seeing these began to fade as she heard the strange chromatically intense warrior explained the true purpose of the tome. His stories of the world before the fall was obvious fiction. Earth, clean earth, seas, endless bodies of water, and forests, vast stretches of healthy trees, were the visions of dreamers lost to their own desires. 

Worse, Z began to realize that within the tome were hallowed mathematics twisted for a purpose she could not clearly divine. Whatever the intention of the ancients had been in creating such a corrupted compilation of statistics, the results of their powerful curses were readily becoming apparent to the young Penja. Z could only sadly conclude that Clan Pazio, powerful as they must have been to write down such powerful magic, must truly have hated the ancestors of the Dorf to curse them with such madness and inflict them with such permanent foolishness. She wondered idly what the Dorfs of this place, Fort Pathfünder, had done, what dishonor they had committed to merit such a punishment.

She would have challenged the rainbow warrior that stood in front of her right then and saved herself from any spiritual harm by separating his large head from his small body had another passenger not interjected at that very moment. Composing herself and restraining her sudden need for violence, Z managed a quick, but polite bow in the direction of the newcomer. Casting a critical eye over the sharply dressed stranger, Z considered that he was exceedingly well dressed for a fellow Lifter or traveler of the shelves. His queries directed at the Dorf were of little interest to her, but she recognized bits and pieces of what he asked. The ranged weapon that he produced was of much greater interest than his uninvited jabbering. It seemed to be a fine weapon forged by a capable hand. Clothing was truly a strange and mysterious department and one far more martial than she had been lead to believe.

When the dandy offered her his hand, Z simply shook her head from side to side. "Please excuse, but no hands. It is not proper."

Z was glad that the flush of color that painted her cheeks a gentle shade of red was not apparent beneath her mask. She did not want the gaijin to get any ideas. Their thoughts were rarely pure and their actions even less so. They forgot their honor so quickly when faced with their own base needs. Mere whispers from the flesh was enough to lead them astray and to seduce them. They were weak and they lacked discipline. The amount of shame they should have felt at their mere existence was truly terrible. She would bring them honor with her sword, as she had always done.

The comments directed at her brought Z into the conversation for the first time. She watched Havalock with new suspension. He spoke of her department with certainty. As if he had been there and as if he had encountered Stationari before. What manner of foreigner was he to have been granted access to the Stationary Shogunate? And if he had not, what foreign devil was he to have faced her brethren in honorable combat. "Many of the honorable warriors from my department require the peerless armor of folded paper to keep them unharmed in battle. I do not."

Taking a step back and turning towards Blöthmerche without losing sight of Havalock, Z bowed once more towards the Dorf and handed the ancient tome carefully back to the Dorf. "Thank you, Warrior of Fort Pathfünder. There is much in this book for a humble Stationari such as myself to consider. I will retire to meditate on the words you have honorable shared with me."

Well practiced as she was in the art of deception, Z was confident that the Dorf would detect nothing in her tone of voice that would betray her alarm at the fevered scribbling which he and his people had come to worship. She was less certain if she could manage to politely escape the two strangers on the confined deck of the ship. Although she wished to extricate herself from situation, she had no wish to be impolite. Her honor would not allow it. Not yet.

[sup][@AmpharosBoy][@ClocktowerEchos][/sup]