How can one’s patience not grow thin with a life consisting mainly of tailoring, getting killed by murderers, and whining about it?  The seeds of insanity in Musashi had been sown long long ago, and the malodorous climes of Sosaria only served to germinate them at an accelerated rate.  If the physics of the world would allow him to, Mu would gladly leap off of this cliff to his death in the sea, but even that respite is denied him, as the maliciously cackling wandering healers and shrines bring one back to life again and again… only the legendary account cancellation phenomena brings any sort of lasting peace to the weary traveler.  Why has Musashi not sought this relief yet?  Only for the company of friends, such as those he has made in the Lost Order of Akalabeth, but such a huge guild eventually feels impersonal and remote, as bureaucracy and politics cloud the simple, personal bonds which make life worthwhile.  What to do?  Fortunately, some other people were close at hand to exploit his vulnerable state.

Although Musashi had been privy to some rumors about a possible split between Maraxus of the High Council and the rest of LOA, things had remained fairly quiet until he suddenly founded the Lost Souls guild, claiming to desire a smaller structure and a tighter bond between friends.  Knowing that Musashi was on the brink of whatever horrible fate eventually befalls frustrated tailors, Maraxus enlisted the aid of Mu’s roommate Kagero, who can here be seen using honeyed words to sweet-talk Mu into the guild.
Unfortunately, Maraxus was operating under the assumption that Musashi cared one whit about what Kagero  thought… once he realized this mistake, Phaedra and Dawnstar were called in to surround and  influence Mu further.  Their command of the language was certainly greater than Kagero’s (of course, it’s difficult to not be more literate than Kagero), but the real influence at work here  was the presence of 4 experienced fighters on all sides of Mu, in a place quite distant from the guard zone.
Despite all the peer pressure in the world, Mu was hesitant to just up and leave the LOA, as would be expected when one is dealing with a guild that one has been a part of for a long time.  As the Lost Souls chanted for him and Maraxus’ pity was blatantly obvious, Musashi thought about his position… it was bad enough to be a tailor, but when one is officially a member of a merchant organization, things were just that much worse… no one really wanted Mu’s clothes, just the money that came from selling them to the anonymous masses.  Mu had paid around 30,000 gold in donations to the guild, and had no idea what it was being used for (although he never knew what that thief Kagero used it for either, so probably just as well).  Worst of all, he was just not entertained by his presence in the LOA… his visits to the clearing were nice, but they simply dulled the pain of his miserable existence.
Drawing his Bardiche of Laughable Damage, Musashi resigned his affiliation with the LOA as he circled around frothing, threatening at any moment to trip on a rock and hurt himself.  Something like this was inevitable in any case… if not for the Lost Souls, Musashi would have more than likely become a vile murderer, wandering the land alone and failing to kill naked miners and rabbit tamers.  Well, that will still probably happen, but at least the Lost Souls would glean some amusement from his lameness.
Aha, the most important thing once you join a new guild is to adopt their colors.  Bold and proud, bright and glo… ack, what the hell is this, some sort of weird hazing?  The steel blue is an obvious holdover from the LOA colors, but what the hell is with that gan green?  And the two together… brrrr.  Kagero argues for Mu to maintain his traditional black tailor’s garb, mostly to better hide the bruises she inflicts on Mu on a daily basis.
Sigh… well he’s lost his soul already, so what’s the big deal about his miniscule sliver of pride?  Mu kept telling himself that as he donned the infection-green robe, draping it over his armor like a coating of fungus.  Okay, well maybe it’s not THAT bad, but to one who tends to walk into dangerous situations with a black felt hat and a hakama, it seems like something of a faux pas.  The only advantage of this getup is that due to the generic nature of all Sosarian outerwear, someone might confuse him for someone who might be a threat in combat, as pointed out by Kagero.
With all of the formalities out of the way, Musashi is officially greeted into the guild in the traditional manner by guildmaster Maraxus.
The mere indication that she is seeing _________ attack Musashi  is enough to rile up Kagero, who saw this as an invitation to hammerpick Mu into oblivion again.  As she beat on him furiously and he failed to connect with the bardiche while trying desperately to bandage himself, Maraxus was heard to mutter, "Mu = lame… must help Mu…" as he used the situation as an excuse to attack Kagero.  Before too long, Phaedra leapt in on Kagero’s side, not really because he liked her (who would), but just because, well, it’s fun to kill Mu.
And a good time was had by all, except for Kagero, who seemed to go blank in the middle of the fight and just stand there, allowing Musashi to land a couple of hits on  her until he realized that she had lost her connection to the world.  Still… how tempting is this scenario?  For the first time in his miserable life, Musashi found himself wishing that the Lagg Daemon might descend on him, drawing his blade into her wounded form no matter how hard he might have tried to hold it back.  Sigh… another opportunity lost.

 

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