Command Tent — Greetings

Naoki nods along as the man speaks. This is a respectable sort who makes a good impression, but he loses points for not telling her his damn name. He’s not keen on talking about the past, and understandably so, given the circumstances. Listening, she offers an empathetic nod, one leader to another, and doesn’t press.

“This tent and most of the others were originally packed years before the flood came, in preparation for the invasion of Goriara. But it turns out, they had been decaying internally for years, so the war was a bit of a wash. We didn’t need to encamp at all. Just marched right on in, occupied their stronghold, and kept the tents in the hold.” Naoki shrugs. “The tents didn’t go bad, so here we are.”

“But, yes. It was The Isran Empire, and ‘well off’ is a good way to put it.” It’s easy to tell, she’s understating. Reaching into the pouch on her hip, she pulls out a shining gold coin. Holding it up for Thrand, she shows how it has Isra’s Sun insignia — similar to the one printed on the tents — on one side, and her face on the other. She does the pose, mirroring the coin, but it doesn’t seem like she’s changed much at all. Her hair’s not quite right, and the Naoki sitting across the desk doesn’t gleam and shine in the same way, but you’d be forgiven for thinking it to be a recent print. “Largest, most prosperous land in the world as we knew it. I was quite satisfied with it all.”

Returning the coin to her pouch, Naoki hums, melancholic. “A damn shame,” she supposes, for lack of something more artful to say about the cataclysm, the downfall of her society, and the deaths of most of her people. She’s not over it, but dwelling on it won't do much good, as he said.

“Have a name?” What’s intended as a humorously clumsy way to change the topic, but he hasn’t said.

“Nothing specific that’s chasing you, then, nothing I need to post a guard to watch for, very good.” And Naoki nods. She wouldn’t put it past Adrian to have angered someone or something of that ilk, and it pays to be careful with things like those.

“Sounds like you’re looking for society, then. In which case, you’ve come to exactly the right place. And there’s plenty of work that needs done. Erecting houses, tilling fields, cutting stone, you’ll have your pick. Later on your sword might come in useful, but for now it’ll be mostly manual labor for all involved. There’s hunting too, if you’d fancy that, but don’t go out by yourself, join one of the parties. There’s some big beasts out there, they say…” As she’s speaking, Naoki has been writing in a ledger. She pauses, and points with the plume of her quill to the child on Cerridwyn’s lap.

“And what’s the little one’s name?” she asks. “For the books.”

Naoki raises her eyebrows at the name ‘Hansel’. That was the disrespectful boy that was tagging along with Adrian, she remembers. Hopefully, he’s named a child after them because they’re dead, but Naoki doesn’t say that aloud. Instead, she dutifully records the name in her book and nods.

“Very well,” she says. “Let me know if you need anything, or if you have any requests for what you’d like your house to be like. Rest well.”

Early in the morning, before the sun has quite risen, but after taking care of last night’s ‘business’, Naoki shuffles into the Command Tent. She’s not had as much time to rest as she would have liked, and her hair isn’t quite right, but otherwise, she seems in fine spirits.

“Ah.” Naoki raises a hand in greeting. “Good morning, Skarlet.”

Rubbing at her nose, Naoki moves past Skarlet to sit heavily in her seat. “Looking through the ledger, hm? See any familiar names?” Pulling a comb, Naoki begins to adjust her hair.

As Skarlet lists off names, Naoki slowly shakes her head. She’s not heard any of those.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “We picked up everyone we saw. More people are washing up every day, but…” Trailing off, Naoki shrugs. There are people she’d like to see again as well, but she’s not sitting by the water and holding her breath. Leaning over, Naoki puts a comforting hand on Skarlet’s shoulder and pats as she cries. Reaching into her pouch, Naoki pulls out a handkerchief and offers it to Skarlet.

“I guess you never did find a boyfriend that worked out, then, huh?” Naoki chuckles lightly. “That’s a touch funny, but losing your child isn’t. I’m sorry. You weren't on the ship with us, and…” Trailing off, Naoki nods. She cried. There’s not a lot she can say and less she can do, so Naoki is just there for Skarlet.

Naoki is momentarily taken aback when Skarlet reaches for her ears. She permits it, this time, but it’s clear that in the future, she’d rather be asked, and moves to fix her hair immediately after.

When Skarlet salutes and makes her case, Naoki falls quiet, a hand over her mouth. Elbows on the armrests of her hair, fingers woven together, she fixes Skarlet with a penetrating look, staring right into her to discern her intent.

“If you want to fight,” Naoki eventually begins, “That’s fine. I’m told there are others here in the Isle and I doubt they’ll all be amenable. We’re very short of fighters, and your experience will be of use.”

“But I don’t want you pointing fingers at the likes of Liz or Alden,” Naoki is quick to continue, brandishing a finger of her own at Skarlet. “Accusing them of treason over perceived slights, and that sort of thing. I don’t want you leading investigations against shadows, memories of the things that happened to you before. I don’t want you assassinating people in the dead of night without my explicit approval. If you want to fight, you may, but you’ll fight only Isra’s enemies — as I designate them.” Naoki taps her own chest.

“If you can agree to that — and to be careful, you can fight. Not otherwise.”