Clean. Fresh. The scent of strange Shou herbs still lingering on his skin after the bath, Sarevok smiled broadly and flexed his muscles.
- "I will take a walk," he announced. "You coming?"
- "Mmmmh," Peri said, already sleeping.
- "Obviously not," Sarevok chuckled. He picked up his backpack which he never left from sight, and headed for the narrow streets of the city.
Downstairs the innkeep grinned broadly at him.
- "Lucky father, eh? Child will born in the year of dragon. Very good luck," she smiled.
- "Er, actually not. See, she is my sister," Sarevok explained.
- "Aiyah! Where is the father?" she wanted to know.
- "Well..."
- "Oh, never mind. None of my business. No, no..." she muttered, but still looked curious.
Then she beamed again.
- "Still good luck! Year of the dragon, best of all years!"
- "That is good, then," Sarevok said helplessly. He certainly wasn't used to this. The woman waved her hand at him as he entered the street.
Obviously this city was not any great metropolis. The businesses seemed rather small, the restaurants affordable for common folk. Still, the red lanterns shedding light to the darkening night, the stony statues of beings so alien to Sarevok and the language so strange in his ears had certain beauty to it. In a small distance he noticed a building with a red brick pagoda roof with several stories, towering over the city part. He approached, curious. The statues of foo creatures, much more skilfully carved than many he had seen guarded the entrance, as well as two statues of what looked like over-sized, high-ranking soldiers. Their skins were golden and their countenance grim, and they carried large red swords. They looked almost as if alive. Sarevok studied the statues when a young, rather haughty-looking man approached him.
- "Most distinguished traveling gentleman," the man said, bowing his head slightly and smiling with the corner of his mouth, "forgive for a humble servant of Ankiang for intruding your privacy, but this humble servant could not help noticing you admiring the men-shen." His common was barely accented.
Sarevok looked blankly at him. Whatever was he talking like that for? Was he making fun of him? Strangers rarely did.
- "Good day to you too, sir," he said. "Who are you, and what is men-shen?"
- "Ah. My name is Tuang Shui, and I am an imperial officer from the garrison," the man answered. "The men donning the regalia of army generals here, they are men-shen."
- "The ones that are not foo creatures," Sarevok nodded nonchalantly, wanting to impress him.
- "Very knowledgeable of you," Shui smiled. "But men-shen surely are not... statues. Do not fear, they will not take offence, you being a foreigner."
That will be a day when I will fear two freaking statues, the irritated Sarevok thought, but so far opted to stay civil.
- "Forgive me for pressing the point, but they look a lot like statues to me," he just said.
- "But only a fool will persist in perception, don't you agree?" Shui said. "The men-shen guard the monastery you see before you, of the Order of Northern Fist."
Sarevok suspected it was quite different from the knightly orders of the west. He nodded for Shui to continue.
- "The first two men-shen were the best generals of good emperor Mai Lang," the Shou man went on. "An evil dragon was visiting the emperor at night, and he fell ill because of it. The generals volunteered to stand watch at his door, and never left their posts, shunning sleep, always alert. The good emperor was worried for their well-being, and so he painted pictures of the generals onto the door posts, and so effective it was that the dragon never came back."
- "And these men are those generals?" Sarevok frowned.
- "No, they are other men-shen. There are plenty living in the Celestial Court, and they often accept worthy guardian duty, being the shining example for all the guardsmen everywhere in Shou Lung. Also, people often paint pictures of men-shen to their doorposts."
- "Fascinating," Sarevok said. "Did you approach me just in order to give a tour, or is there something you want of me?"
- "As a matter of fact - my mother, the most revered general Tuang Chen, is the commander of the garrison, and would be honored if you visited her. We know you just came from the desert, and we are very anxious to hear news from there."
Sarevok grinned. Speech patterns aside, people were people everywhere.
- "Very well," he said.
