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Katsuro raised a brow at the curious lot gathered in the smithy. A gaggle of local village children, it seemed, with the shopkeeper nowhere in sight. They froze where they stood. He must've looked a fox to this nest of rabbits with the way their eyes glistened with fear. Off to the side he caught sight of a dirt-stained woman shrinking into a back room. Another stood off to the side, muscles coiled like a snake ready to strike. Those trepidatious first moments of silence were broken by a tall, pale boy beside the forge. His attire suggested this was his place of business, yet Ashida couldn't hide his amusement at the idea that this pretty waif of a boy was a metalworker.

Despite his looks, the boy was polite. Katsuro ought to reciprocate.

"We've traveled a great distance to get to your...humble village. It has been many months since a proper smith attended to our equipment. We'll need horseshoes, nails, hatchets. Many of our blades are dulled as well."

He untied the sheathe and pulled it out of his belt. Holding it out before Tsubasa, Katsuro revealed a few inches of the blade. The uchigatana was clearly well-worn, its edge dulled from lack of care. The metal itself was not of any particular quality; even the basic tools within the shop were made of higher grade iron than this. Whoever had forged it had likely recycled old pig iron from pots and broken tools and the like to form its brittle core.

Re-sheathing the weapon, Ashida pushed it into Tsubasa's hands and continued to speak: "Does your village have a lord, or an elder you look to for leadership? I need to negotiate our stay here for the time being while we comb the valley for our prize." The weariness that had plagued him since he stepped into the shop seemed to subside for a moment, overtaken by a covetous excitement that shone like fire in his eyes. "You lot ought to count yourselves lucky. You will see our liberation from the demon's yolk first hand."

--

Outside the Crane's Roost Inn, more than a dozen armed and armored soldiers stood still as the grave. All eyes were on the new arrival: a young woman in riding leathers atop a horse of her own. She'd ridden up before Shigeru and answered his boisterous demands with one of her own. The tension running through the village square was palpable. Hands hovered near the hilts of weapons in rapped anticipation, as if one wrong move might bring eighteen blades flying from their sheathes. The air itself seemed to hiss with the possibility of violence- the cold gripping all present like an unspoken threat. 

The giant raised his head ponderously toward the squeaking of some angry little mouse. A country girl on a sickly-looking mule had ridden up before Shigeru, defiance burbling in her throat. The surprise on the big man's face was clear as day. He hadn't expected [i]anyone[/i] in this backwater to give him lip. But a little girl? It was so absurd he couldn't muster his rage. All he could manage was an ugly, barking laugh. It came from so deep in his belly he nearly stumbled over his own club and fell on his ass. A few of his cronies joined in with laughter of their own, though it was colored with an undercurrent of nervousness.

"What queer sort've place 'ave we found ourselves in, where grown men cower in their hovels while little girls stand their ground?" Shigeru asked between dwindling chuckles. "They even give 'em whole [i]inns[/i] o' their own! Ha! Fine, fine."

Onisawa Shigeru gave an exaggerated bow. "You 'ave my deepest apologies, little inn-master," he rumbled. Even his 'speaking voice' could drown out most people's shouts. "I did not mean to offend. I do so 'umbly request that you fetch oats for our horses and sake for our bellies..." 

There was a sudden burst of movement as Shigeru lurched toward the rider, reaching one of his massive hands up toward her shoulder to grab at her. He intended to snatch the girl from her saddle and toss her into the mud at his feet.

"Or I'll introduce yer [i]outsides[/i] to yer [i]insides[/i]."
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