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Mahendru Divya	Great Forks, like many cities, has its share of distinct districts. One of the last to catch public attention is the Urns, where funerals and ancestor worship take place, and where the dead not taken to Sijan by Funerists are laid to rest. It's quieter here, usually, if there isn't a particular festival going on. And today, there's a festival. A memorial too. Today is the annual celebration of the Battle of Mishaka, the battle that broke the invading armies of Thorns and put an end to a conflict that'd raged across the East for three years. The soldiers of Great Forks who fought in that battle are interred in the Urns, in the Mishakan Memorial whose grand stone sculptures lay heavy shadows across the headstone-lined graves in the morning and afternoon. This is the only time of year where the graveyard is 'brightened up' by flower bouquets and bowls of incense, elaborate meals cooked and donated by wealthy families as a small recompense for those who gave their lives. Locals trickle on through, dancing and singing (and getting high) as the various priests and officiants of three different ancestor cults host events and activities for people to join in. By mutual agreement, most ignore the Goddess on the periphery. She stands towards the back of the graveyard, between rows of headstones laid with only name and rank. Her eyes slowly drift from name to name and she moves a little, now and then, but it seems there's a few particular she's come to visit. Several of the headstones and bits of grass bear glowing drops of sunlight where her tears fell but her dark skin is unmarred now. Her hair smolders, more of a sunset than a Sunrise as she silently considers these dead while occasionally looking up at the passing crowd or the few family who happen to visit one grave or another.
The Mournful Chorus	Small animals thrive in this quiet, peaceful district of the city, disturbed only by funeral processions, visitors who come here to mourn, or present gifts to the dead, and the ancestor cults, whose rites are conducted most often at night. Unless there is a festival, of course. Today, the many birds, rodents, lizards, and monkeys of the Urns stay close to the undergrowth and the trees, to better avoid the crowds of mourners. As has been the case each year since the Battle of Mishaka, these proceedings are overseen by priests and ghost-speakers of the White Nettle Lodge, the oldest and most numerous of Great Fork's ancestor cults, who pride themselves of having played a pivotal role in the victory against the Black Heron, so long ago, when the city was still young. Sunrise is not the only deity in attendance, but most observe quietly from the shadows - most of them minor gods of death and dead things, whose purviews are not broad enough to award them a place among the Celestial gods. Some take note of Sunrise's presence, nodding in greeting, but they leave her alone - unlike the silver-furred lemur, which is both much larger and less colorful than the resident packs of graveyard monkeys. The creature perches on the head of a tall statue - the goddess Taru-Han - which holds watch over the headstones. Orange eyes follow Sunrise's path from grave to grave, from name to name. The animal's glare is intense, almost piercing... as if it is looking for something. Or waiting, perhaps? It looks very much like the monkey that was with Ravi Voice-of-Longing, when she visited the Green Dynasty Silk only a few days ago. While the monkey continues to stare, a small figure moves among the headstones towards Sunrise. She has her hood up, but the strange, iridescent cloak is unmistakable: It has to be Ravi. When she is maybe a dozen steps away, she pauses, cocking her head. "Thought I recognized these tears", she says, bowing respectfully, before offering the goddess an amiable smile.
Mahendru Divya	The nearby voice is an interruption to dark thoughts and Sunrise is equal parts resentful of it and grateful for it. She didn't notice the monkey at all, but she notices and remembers the cloak and the woman attached to it. The Goddess perceptibly brightens as she smiles at Ravi's observation, but the expression lacks the ease it had of a few days prior. She clasps her hands together and steps a little closer. "Ravi Voice-of-Longing. Making a tour of Great Forks districts? Or did you have someone here you came to see? Are you with your fellow performers and courtesans or is it just you?" Sunrise leans a little to look over Ravi's shoulder before her eye contact returns. "You are most welcome here, of course. And I'll admit it's nice to see a friendly face. It reminds me of who I am and what I'm for. Usually not something I need reminding of, but this is not a usual day for me."
The Mournful Chorus	Ravi pulls her hood back, revealing a familiar face with notably less make-up than she was wearing during her spontaneous performance yesterday - just enough to carefully accentuate her features. Her eyes are lined with kohl, making them appear even larger than they actually are, although the effect is subtle, not overdone. She momentarily follows Sunrise's look over her shoulder, then smiles even brighter upon looking up to meet the goddess's eyes. The proceedings don't seem to dampen her mood. "A few of them are around. This city is so huge - we still haven't seen even half of it", she explains. Her gaze leaves Sunrise's eyes, traveling across the goddess's face. "Even the dead are provided with a grand feast. Delightful! But you look like a woman in mourning. Forgive me for asking, but I'm not familiar with the local customs... What's that grand memorial for?"
Mahendru Divya	To a degree, both women are a bit 'less' today in terms of makeup and effort made to create a certain, signature look. To see Sunrise without a sanxian in her hands, with her light-wrought hair dampened, and in this big open space instead of the teahouse...it makes her seem a bit smaller than her outsized personality of the other day. Certainly the lingering but recognizeable grief on her face isn't something casually seen on the faces of spirits. "These dead earned their festival. Twenty years ago, the city-state of Thorns made a deal with the Realm to invade the Hundred Kingdoms. Sixteen years ago, the invasion began. Three years of war followed, consuming many of the surrounding lands...including this one. Great Forks sent its armies to fight and, ultimately, to win at the decisive Battle of Mishaka. Those who fell in that final battle were brought here to be interred. Many of the people you see at the festival are their families. Their children, most of whom are now grown." Her smile turns briefly bitter. "Oh, in another generation or two this annual festival may not survive. As many like it before it have not. Mortals and their short lives, you know. Time seems to pass so swiftly for them and what mattered to their dead loved ones, or parents, or eventually grandparents seems further and further away." Sunrise shakes off that train of thought. And her smile softens once more. "But for now, it's still recent enough that these people here feel it. Those who died are remembered and loved by the living. At least the ones with family or friends left to remember them." She glances involuntarily at one of the nearby headstones. Corporal Pavelo Oldbow. Fell at Mishaka. He died well. "There's a few who don't have that. A few I remember. A few maybe I alone remember now. And so I do, whenever the opportunity is there."
The Mournful Chorus	While Ravi certainly eyes Sunrise intently, taking careful note of her slightly toned-down appearance, actually getting a read on how she feels about such grief displayed by a deity proves surprisingly difficult. Her face relaxes into a neutral expression, the smile slowly fading away as Sunrise recounts the events that lead up to that fateful, terrible battle. She turns to read the inscription of that particular headstone, and clucks her tongue appreciatively. "Thorns, huh? That's a name I hear floating around a lot in these parts." Her gaze follows a large procession of mourners in brightly colored garb, carrying flowers and incense among the graves. They look like family. Without returning her eyes to Sunrise, the singer continues in a soft voice: "What are mortal lifespans to the gods, if not the fleeting glow of fireflies, resplendent in the dark... and then, gone?" She tilts her head towards sunrise, watching her from the corner of her eye. "What's it to you? Why do you still remember, even when their descendants have forgotten?" There's no accusation in her voice, only curiosity.
Mahendru Divya	With the break in eye-contact, the woman going by the Goddess Sunrise Imzada lets her gaze drift back to the gravestones. She remembers. And she sighs softly. "Mortal lifespans are nothing to the Gods, Ravi. And to the few who remember how short those lives are, they usually remember it for reasons you can't understand or are -much better off- NOT understanding." She briefly thinks on the last gala put on by the Division of Serenity that she attended and wrinkles her nose in distaste. "And yet the lives of mortals matter very much to the Gods, at least as a whole. It's all abstract and distant for those who dwell in Yu-Shan." "It's one reason I spend as much time in Creation as I do. Every year, every month, every day I meet someone who reminds me that individuals matter. In the last century alone, I've made friendships and partnerships, gained and lost respect in someone's eyes, and I've been there for more occasions than I care to remember as a witness to someone's last moments of life. I remember Corporal Pavelo Oldbow. We knew each other for all of two days, when I first crossed paths with the Spirit Child commander of his unit. He showed me around their camp and he wasn't afraid of me. A bad bout of illness had wiped out his family, he was the only one left but he had some optimism left in his life. There was a girl he was sweet on. Matty, he called her. I think he hoped to marry her when it was all over." Her gaze rests once more on the headstone she stands by. "A soldier stabbed him through the stomach, the next day, at the Battle of Mishaka. I came across him that evening, as he lay there in pain, knowing it was the end for him. We talked and I held his hand while he whispered Matty over and over before he passed away." Bright streaks of sunlight gleam in her eyes and then leave searing trails of radiance down her cheeks as she brings the words up. "People pray to us, Ravi Voice-of-Longing. Some days, I don't know why. I really don't."
The Mournful Chorus	Ravi absorbs the goddess's touching, solemn tale with rapt attention. During it all, the family moves on after draping one of the graves in flowers, and the monkey finally decides to abandon his perch on Taru-Han's statue, measuring a long leap over to a neglected mausoleum's roof nearby. The small building is covered in ivy, and its stone walls have been worn and chipped by long exposure to the elements without repair. After Sunrise's voice has gone silent, Ravi remains quiet for a few heartbeats, watching the silent fall of radiant tears. "One of many mysteries in this world", she concludes. "Prayer is an expression of longing, too, I supposed. Especially to the dead... although unlike so many gods, the dead might actually care enough to answer." She gestures into the general direction of a crowd of revelers, who are paying due to the dead with loud music, feverish dance, and generous swigs of honeyed wine. "He might be still around, this Corporal. Have you considered searching for him? These tears you shed in his name... he's going to appreciate them, but if he lingers in the Underworld, he might hunger for something more... filling. Or something useful, if he was the practical type in life."
Fudou the Mountain	For some time now, a mangy, slightly overweight, alley cat had been observing these events from atop a nearby wall with all the general disinterest of...well...a bored cat. Or so it seems. To the average passer byer the cat is merely one of many such stray animals that might prove brave enough to make their way towards where an abundance of dropped food or forgotten snacks may be prone to appear but for all this ones disinterest and aloofness...it's pays some attention to the goddess and her conversation partner, gaze drifting back there from time to time before turning to look over the rest of the festivities like some regent overseeing its court. Eventually, it clumsily hops down onto the other side of the wall falling out of sight and presumably in search of whatever food or attention it might yet scrounge up and time continues on and the festivities, rites and engagements continue on, uninterrupted. Ultimately, the ground begins a soft rumble from the heavy footfalls of something massive approaching. A heavy sort of tread usually associated with the approach of a great beast of burden or a boulder rolling down a stream. When Fudou the Mountain steps around a corner, towering overhead like an ox wandering amid a herd of colorful sheep, it's likely easy to understand where that impending feeling and vibration were coming from. The giant man treads forward with a large hunk of meat in one hand, lifting it up to tear at every now and then as he languidly makes his way with the crowds parting around him to enable his passage as his immensity sweeps through them. Some have great cause to recognize him given the very public events of The Tournament. "Behold the Champion of Volivat!" and "The Mountain passes through!" are some of the shouts of good cheer sent his way. The behemoth has become something of a popular spectacle in recent months. For his past he simply gives a big full toothed grin and a casual wave with his free hand as his lumbering wanderings circle him slowly closer and closer to towards the goddess and those near her.
Mahendru Divya	Sunrise masterfully gets ahold of herself and manages a shaky laugh. "Search for him? I wouldn't have the slightest idea where to begin. If he remains, he's somewhere my kind never go. A place the Gods can never understand. More's the pity." But her eyes drift to the revelers and celebrants and she looks a bit wistful and a bit curious. The arrival of spectacle to a scene of spectacle catches her attention next, of course. She'd have to be blind to miss the sight, and sound, of a man that enormous. Sunrise notes his casual path, realizes he'll be passing into conversational range shortly and she preemptively steps closer to the headstone, mostly to help clear the path. He's more than twice her height, almost literally the size of a house, and he needs all the room he can get. "I suddenly feel...ordinary," she remarks once he's close enough. Her tone is bemused, conversational, aimed at Ravi but plainly about Fudou. "Welcome to the Mishakan Memorial, Champion." She inclines her head in a gesture of acknowledgement, but since she has to angle her head up just to look at him, it's dubious if its even noticeable.
The Mournful Chorus	Sunrise's palpable discomfort about the Underworld coaxes a slight smirk on Ravi's lips. "A pity indeed. It's a beautiful place. If you want... I could try to find him for you." The answer to that ominous offer might remain at large for the forseeable future, given that they are now approached by that enormous, unimaginably gigantic person - or maybe standing in his way. Who knows? Ravi's eyebrows shoot upwards, but she doesn't flinch away from the sight, despite the fact that her small frame would probably fit into the palm of even one of the walking mountain's massive hands. Instead of moving aside, she remains standing, but leans on one of the headstones, squinting up, and up, at the face illuminated by far too much sunlight. "Would you look at that...", she says with a huge grin, followed by a soft whistle. "Careful now. You might disturb someone's long sleep." Her playful words are accompanied by a sweeping gesture at the graves surrounding them.
Fudou the Mountain	"Greetings!" remarks the titan, his grin broadening at the acknowledgement given by the two as his immense feet tread to a stop and things about him cease their vibrations as his movements still, leaving only the cracks in the ground under his feet as an implication of his mass beyond just the sheer sight of him. His rounded silver rimmed spectacles gleam slightly in the lighting cast about him, hiding his squinted eyes as the light reflects into the glasses resting upon his broad nose. He smiles down at the two and then he leans forward in a bit of a bow, making a wide sweeping gesture with an enormous arm to bring it about and then forward against his torso. Fudou's immense fist presses against the opposite pectoral and the sinew bunches up in a thick rolling display of his vastness as he leans in and then straightens back up again. "I am afraid I am not -so- extraordinary that I can wake these ones by simply walking through!" he responds, heavy bass voice continuing the vibrations that his footfalls ceased, "..But perhaps if I train enough and grow ever larger and stronger I can give it an attempt1 I fear the disruption that it might cause to the way of things though. I might get into a bit of trouble!"
Mahendru Divya	Sunrise looks a bit incredulously at the mountain of the man. His every moment displays a physical prowess that's simply extraordinary. Even in Yu-Shan, perhaps -especially- in Yu-Shan, supernatural strength was rarely so on display as this. Divine muscles weren't bound by the constraints of flesh and blood. This man's muscles seemed poised to surpass those limits if he just simply flexed hard enough. "It would take quite the footstep for the sound and weight of it to reach the Underworld itself," she observes with some humor. "But if anyone could do it, I'd believe it would be you, Champion. You don't look like the kind of man who much minds trouble, though. I do admire that you at least consider the possibility. Too many who don't do that when they should."
The Mournful Chorus	The petite woman's grin is at least as huge as the Mountain's... well, in relation, of course. She appears to be both impressed and delighted by his sheer existence. But after she has had ample opportunity to eye him up and down, something else catches her eye - the ancestor cult's priests begin calling to revelers and mourners alike. People trickle from the site's outskirts toward the memorial in the center, where the crowd gathers now. A procession of musicians, drums and flutes and fiddles, takes to the wooden stage next to the monument. "There doesn't seem to be enough room for two huge personalities", Ravi remarks with a mock salute towards the giant. "Whatever is going on over there, I need to see it." She turns towards the goddess, giving her the same respectful bow as before. "Until we meet again, Lady Sunrise. When I next perform at your establishment, I will bring a few of my crew with me to take to the stage. Believe me, they are delightful. Don't expect us before sundown." With a wink and a dashing smile, she takes her leave, smoothly stepping around the giant, and makes a beeline for the crowd. Only the langur remains, still crouched on the derelict mausoleum roof.
Fudou the Mountain	The behemoth swivels his attention to Sunrise, glasses still gleaming in the glare of the light and his smile big and full toothed as he looks down to her over the swell of his monstrous chest. "I enjoy trouble." he confirms, Rivertongue emerging easily from his barrel sized neck but tinged with that heavy Firetongue accent, "But not the sort of trouble waking the dead by walking overtop them would cause! An amusing tale it would create, though! The Volivat Yennin who grew so strong he shook the Underworld by walking in Creation! Perhaps that -is- a goal I should pursue!" He brings an arm up as he speaks, tensing a bicep to cause the vast boulder of flesh to bunch up and peak towards obscene sizes, nearly rising up to reach own hand as his forarm presses in and brings his fist overhead. He then brings the same around around to the last of the hunk of meat towards his mouth. He pauses as Chorus speaks and then makes her departure. He tracks her movements towards the revelry that draws her attention and then turns away from it to level his gaze back upon the 'goddess' besides him. "Lady Sunrise?" he inquires, as if seeking her to give him her full name and title. With the number of gods in Great Forks being literally....legion...that the name doesn't call anything to his mind doesn't surprise him. He stuffs the meat into his mouth, finishing off the hunk of venison and then turns to face her more directly while giving her some respectful space. "it was not my intention to run off your speaking partner." he eventually notes, smile less full toothed but still present as he looks her over.
Mahendru Divya	The glasses are a nicely incongruous touch, and Sunrise rather likes how they add to the look. The sheer display of muscle and mass is likewise quite a spectacle and the presumed deity makes no effort to hide her staring. He's likely used to it anyway and who knows when a chance to see a physique like that will come again? Chorus' departure is not exactly a surprise and Sunrise looks only a bit wistful as the other woman heads off. "She's new to Great Forks, I think," she offers aloud as an observation to Fudou. "No sense in her spending all her time with either of us, when there's crowds and rites and no dout all manner of consumables to sample. Speaking of, how's yours?" she casts a pointed gaze at the thick hunk of meat. When addressed as Lady Sunrise, though, she sketches an elaborate curtsey and laughs. "I'm no Lady, I can promise that. I go by Sunrise Imzada in these parts. Heaven would know my purview as Auspicious Initiations. The short of it is, I like new things and new experiences, and I seek those for everyone. Everyone could use a new beginning, now and then, don't you think? What about you? Hero, the Volivat Champion, what will your next title be? What do you hope Fate has in store for you?"
Fudou the Mountain	"Onward and upwards, I suppose, milady." responds the giant after only a brief pause to rub his jaw with a thick tree branch of finger. "I've been in Great Forks for a number of seasons you see... even before the tournament came. A time may come soon when I must depart these lands..." His voice trails off at that, sounding slightly distracted as if his mind has briefly wandered. But it snaps back to the here and now and Fudous attention returns swiftly to the Lady before him, "Perhaps a return to Volivat! There's much I can do there to bring what I've learned since my sabbatical began...and it's been a very long time since I was even near The Dreaming Sea. But's hard to shake Great Forks off. Decadence, yes? I've found much of that." He absently reaches down to grab hold off one of the thick red rope belts wrapped about his massive waist and uses that, perhaps abit uncouth, to wipe away the last bit of grease from the hunk of meat he'd been munching on. "..Speaking of....it wsa good! For my time here I can't say I've been to a festival quite like this one before."
Mahendru Divya	"Yes, this festival is one of memory. Great Forks prefers to celebration devotion and reverence. And yes, decadence. Mortality tends to make mortals feel uncomfortable though so the Urns District where we are doesn't get nearly as much attention as other parts of the city. The Battle of Mishaka was only a decade and a half ago, though. Still recent enough for loved ones of those lost to still live. For the children of heroes to feel closer to their dead parents here." She muses for a moment longer, that melancholy she wore earlier still lingering, but it's rapidly fading entirely now in Fudou's company. "Anyway, Volivat is an interesting possibility. I don't think I've ever been there. I'm quite fond of the Dreaming Sea, actually, but I've never been there. Would you recommend it?" She looks a bit excited at the thought. "If you decide to go, perhaps you wouldn't mind a little company for the trip? New beginnings and new experiences aren't just my purview, they're a passion of mine."
Fudou the Mountain	"Perhaps you would benefit from seeing it...." Fudou's gaze grows more mercurial and rumbling deep tone subtle with the hint of mystery and adventure as he looks her over again. "Volivat....it is a City of Champions and a realm that contends on equal footing with the sorcerers of Ysyr and the Princes of Prasad. My fellow Yennin both lead and serve that land. It wants for the glory of the ancient ages but I wonder, sometimes, if they see too much glory in the lost past and rely on it over much... I left on a sanctioned journey to find this out and have much to bring back to them though I wonder if they'll hear me..." He pauses and then says simply, "I became more then a Yennin but ...I'l not say overmuch about myself anymore. Just know you're welcome to join me! But it would be after the tournament and other things that are on my plate.." He clasps both of his immense hands together and bows once more. Another mild flex sending his sinew bulking up in gargantuan lurching movements liek an earthquake or battling beasts of burden under his flesh. "I beg your leave now, o'Lady. Things call to me as well but I believe I will see you again, mm?"
Mahendru Divya	"I hope you shall, Champion." Sunset matches his gesture, clasping her hands together and bowing as well. "If it helps, I think you have the right of it. The past has much to teach, always. But you can't live there. A man's life marches forever from the present into the future. Remembering the glories of past ages is fine and right. But that's not where -your- glory lies." She smiles again and gives him a wave. "Thank you. Your strength has managed to lift even my mood, and on this day of days I thought there was nothing strong enough for that. I believe our paths will cross again. And if you do go back home, perhaps the trip will be easier with a new friend." "Until next time."
Fudou the Mountain	"Come find me in the arena. Perhaps I will reveal more there! If nothing else, cheer me on for my final matches when the time comes!" suggests the giatn as he straightens and nods to her once more. Fudou then turns and after taking a moment to survey the area...begins tromping away heavily and slowly towards the crowds. They part as he reaches them, surging around him like a stream flowing about a boulder deciding to roll its way against its current. Eventually the great swell of Great Forks absorbs even him and he's soon gone from sight.