Yoshi nods. "Your path is righteous. I will walk it with you. For the time being, however, it is probably best if I do not know your next step. Seek me out here when you wish my aid."

"Alright. Well, I got a boat to catch. I will be back, in due time." Takao bows to the older samurai, then heads to the stables.

By Yoshi's reckoning, Takao has two days to scope out the area where the exchange is to take place. Odds are that boat trips are no precise business, and the man with the ring may already be waiting a day early. If that is the case, then Takao would have a chat with him, in a dark alley nearby. Otherwise, Takao would find a good place to observe the location where the exchange would take place. He needed to know who all the players in this game were.

It would also not hurt to get in touch with Homi's agent.

So many things to do, Takao thought on his way back. He was hoping that the young lady was still near the stables, to at least bid farewell.

Himiko is indeed still at the stables, currently brushing a horse's side. She smiles as Takao approaches.

"You smell much better now," she says, "but your gait is the same. You have more in your obi than the other samurai - was it a gonne I smelled?" She turns to face him. "I'm sorry, I'm still practicing, I just can't seem to help myself."

"At some point you will have to tell me how you deduce the weight of my obi from my gait, especially since there really is only a gonne in it, in addition to the daisho. There is hardly a difference in weight", Takao replies with an expression of mild surprise on his face.

"Alas, I must away now. My stay here was only short-lived, and there is much to do. The conversation with your father went well, however, and I think I may return from time to time. I wish you good luck with your studies, and don't be embarrassed at the desire to constantly practice. Whether it is the art of the sword or the art of deduction, mastery arises only from practice."

"It's not the weight," Himiko says. "Your steps are shorter than the height of your voice would suggest. But they are equally short and of good tempo, so that rules out lameness in one leg or both. An obi with many things that might be jostled loose by a longer stride seems the most logical explanation."

"I had hoped we would have more time for conversation, but I do not wish to keep you from urgent business. Your horse has earned some rest, but feel free to borrow one of ours in the meantime."

"Impressive. Good observation coupled with sound deduction. Your teacher must be proud of your skill. Perhaps next time, I will be able to bring you a riddle or two to test your wits on."

Takao adds wistfully: " Events are afoot that require some preparation right now, and I dare not tarry. When things have calmed down a bit, I shall return." This is just about all that Takao dares offer. He has skirted potential disaster with her father once today, and believes in quitting while he is ahead.

With that, he bids Himiko farewell and rides to the capital, to prepare for the arrival of the barge with its contraband of weapons.

Takao's ride takes him back through the woods and onto the main trade route running along the river again. Single houses start to turn into small settlements edging into outright sprawl as he gets further along the road. In the distance, the tall wooden towers of temples and palaces within the capital proper tower over the horizon, but that aside, the city seems to have more of a gentle slope, topping out at four stories for most of the buildings at the core. The river widens into a delta and cuts through the city, turning it into multiple tightly connected islands, their shores covered in people swarming like ants - and about as big to Takao's eyes at this distance. The best overall view of the city is from a tall bridge that crosses the main arm of the river, incorporating enough wood to build a warship and enough metal to outfit it with the heaviest gonnes and armor plating to spare. The almost-noon sun casts a golden sheen over the distant buildings and the river delta, truly a sight that would awe any visitor.

(Fun history fact: the first souvenir postcard was apparently sent in 1871 from Vienna.)

As the horse trots along the main path and dodges through the copious foot traffic and vendor carts, Takao's look falls upon a series of signs posted along the roads. Not only are they all labelled at each intersection, there are further signs pointing to different districts and other points of interest nearby. One of them even lists the Grand Hall, pointing down the main road into the center of the capital with a distance of 41 cho listed. Next to the distance, another, slightly newer sign has been affixed - showing a crossed-out sword. Takao notices that many of these signs bear the addition, and at the next intersection, he sees a group of men at work adding these to another signpost. They must be Lady Ishikawa's "police" - men in tight, dark blue pants and jackets with narrow collars and brass buttons, along with a stiff cloth cap. Instead of an obi, they wear their weaponry on a sturdy leather belt; Takao notices a loop with a tonfa, hooks for tightly-coiled rope and a leather sheath for a gonne, plus pouches for powder and bullets.

Takao is both surprised and dismayed at the sight of so many gonnes, and in the hands of ashigaru or worse. Was he too late? He thought the shipment of gonnes to the capital was exceptional, tools to a coup. They might still be. But if everyone had them, they would hardly be the power shift he had expected them to be. And this prohibition of swords had already gone much further than what Yoshi indicated.

"Hey you", he calls to the ashigaru, "I take it the sign means that no swords are allowed past this point? Why not put it in writing? Samurai are the only ones wearing them, and they are all taught to read and write. Then one wouldn't have to guess at the meaning."

"What about gonnes? Are they allowed?"

"First time here, Sir?" one of the policemen answers, giving Takao a polite smile. "These signs are for everyone, not just samurai. And they mean no weapons are allowed, at all, including gonnes." Takao squints at the sign again. That could be a gonne crossing the sword, too, but it's a bit hard to tell given the simplified lines. "They also forbid duels and other acts of physical violence. But then, there's no need for worry, Sir. Thanks to Lady Ishikawa's edicts, the inner city is safer than ever. If you run into any trouble, just come to one of us."

Takao's response smile is more of a rictus. "I see. Where do Lady Ishikawa's edicts propose that samurai stash their valuable heirlooms, handed down through many generations?"

"You must be able to tell that I'm not from here. Are gonnes common in the capital? They are very rare in the lands that I have traveled."

"Well, Sir, your weapons are not allowed in the safe zones, precious heirlooms or not," the policeman says. "How you wish to secure them is your choice. Several businesses near the edges of the safe zones have started offering storage services, but obviously we cannot endorse any specific one - though I can say that we also regularly inspect these businesses and incidences of malfeasance are very, very low."

"I can further assure you, Sir, that the vast majority of gonnes in this city are in our hands - we waited a long time for them, too, we only got them a month ago. A handful of people have been granted special dispensation by Lady Ishikawa to carry their gonnes with them inside. Anyone without such a license found with a gonne is arrested on the spot."

"Now, please be on your way, Sir - we have more work to do. If you have further questions, feel free to visit the Hall of Justice, where our colleagues will be glad to assist you."

Having been brushed off like that by peasants - large numbers of very well-armed peasants, with more nearby, mind you - Takao researches several of the storage businesses to see if he can find one that meets his needs - namely, returning his weapons.

That accomplished, he wanders around to see if he can find the meeting place for the gonne shipment. How many gonnes might have been on those barges? Enough to equip a police force like he just witnessed, or perhaps more still? He also planned to peek into the taverns where Homi's men might be, just to see if he can spot the sign anywhere, but he wouldn't be wearing a sign himself.

But as he wandered, his steps took him past the Hall of Justice, and carried him inside on a whim. He bowed to the clerk who received him, noted any rank insignia and armament, and proceeded with the bare minimum of polite greetings to the main topic: "I have seen your police men in action outside, and I was wondering if a ronin could qualify for this occupation."

(Takao's Sense Motive: 1d20+25 = 37)

Takao does his homework, evaluating several businesses on their security measures and the character of their staff. A tavern has much foot traffic that may make it open to someone just walking in and stealing items, a dedicated "storage" business seems rather unscrupolous and liable to be tempted to simply pack up and run with the valuable weapons once enough have been amassed, and though well-meaning, a nearby tailor's method of storing weapons just underneath his counter seems particularly insecure against anyone forcing their way in. All of them charge around 10 pieces of silver per day for the service.

All of which takes Takao a little off the beaten path to a pawnbroker. Though they do not have the best reputation, Takao knows that these businesses always draw a lot of attention from local law enforcement, leaving them with a strong incentive to live up to the terms of the deal. There are two guards outside and one inside - ronin like Takao himself, from the looks of it - while the broker himself is a middle-aged bald man whose intense scrutiny of Takao matches the samurai's own. The terms are clearly laid out: the broker appraises Takao's weapons (coming to a whopping 800 silver for the lot), then examines the weapons carefully, noting down distinguishing features and marks on two scrolls, one for himself, one for Takao as proof. If Takao hands them over, the 800 silver will be paid out to him. For the next week, the weapons will be held for Takao, who can buy them back at the original price plus 20 silver per day of storage. If Takao fails to show up or cannot cover the price, the weaponry goes on sale. The broker further explains that Takao will have to fetch one of the districts policemen for the process, to witness the exchange and sign both scrolls - a procedure that will have to be repeated for when Takao retrieves his weapons. In the meantime, the policemen can enter at any time and demand that the broker account for all items that have been there less than a week, going off their own records of when they witnessed which items being stored. The broker explains that sixth day inspections are the usual rule of thumb.

---

(Takao's Investigate: Roll 1: 1d20+17: 1d20(13) 17(17) = 30)

Having picked a place for his weaponry, Takao proceeds unarmed towards his next waypoint: the meeting site. The place itself is easily found, but the pier is large and dotted with small cabins and boathouses - Takao cannot watch everything at once, but on the flipside, Genji will have to search the length of the pier, too. Perhaps it might be easier to lie in wait at the harbor entrance, where he is sure to see Genji's convoy of barges pass, and then follow them from there.

A round of the taverns does indeed reveal one of Homi's agents - the waitress, a young woman with a dark skin, likely the offspring of a sailor from the south. The black silk braid dangles off the strap of her apron as she rushes about the place to keep everyone's cups filled with sake.

---

At the Hall of Justice, Takao gets a bit more than he bargained for. The clerk - though unarmed and of low rank - favors with a genuine smile and immediately rummages about his desk for several scrolls.

"We welcome anyone who wishes to serve the peace!" the clerk says. "Many of our most experienced policemen are former samurai such as yourself, Sir. You will find the work well-paid, and we will also provide you with a uniform and all the equipment you require for your duties. Once you fill out the form, our physician will examine you briefly to determine if you are suitably fit for the job, then you will be interviewed - Lady Ishikawa currently handles these interviews herself, oh! There she goes! What an honor!"

Takao turns to look - two seasoned policemen walk beside a woman whose dress is, to put it mildly, cause for a raised eyebrow. Though it follows the general design of the foreigner-inspired police uniforms, it seems to have specifically thickened fabric and leather reinforcements over her chest, shoulders, arms and shins, while the fabric around her joints seems cut wide for better mobility - a curious mixture of snappy uniform and body armor. She does not wear a belt like the others, instead favoring loops and pouches attached to the uniform itself. Takao spots twin jittes, a set of thin metal manacles (?) and more tools for disarming and disabling opponents. Most eerie, however, is her head, none of which is clearly visible. Her neck is wrapped in thick fabric, and a tight-fitting hood of thin fabric covers her head, making it obvious there is no hair underneath. Her face is covered by a ceramic mask painted in an artistic approximation of what must once have been beneath. She briefly turns to look at Takao, and he can all but feel her scan him intensely, but she seems to determine that he is not an immediate threat, and proceeds with her route deeper into the hall to what must be her office in the middle of the mess of desks and policemen.

"Since I know you will ask this, Sir, I do not know the full story of her injuries," the clerk says. "I have only heard that the pain of them is considerable. But Lady Ishikawa is far too dedicated to give up her duties. She truly inspires all of us."

Flashback....

A younger Takao was walking down the street of a run-down heimin village. He had heard that the village was being terrorized by two bandit gangs who were at war with each other.
As he turned onto a side street, he became aware of a commotion: a girl no older than 16 was being molested by four men, who were trying to tear her clothes off of her in the middle of the street. An older man was pleading with a bandit lieutenant for his daughter's honor, but the man just laughed and said: "We told you what would happen next time if you didn't pay up, old man. So here we are."

Takao walked straight past the group, even though the girl begged for help, and up to a group of toughs who were sitting in front of a sake house and eyed the proceedings warily.
"How much will your boss pay if I kill those five men?", he asked them.
One of the toughs looked him up and down, sneered and replied: "A man strong enough to kill five men by himself? Why, he could get paid at least 50 silver per week."
Takao nodded, and said: "I'll be right back. Have the money ready."
Then he turned and walked back to the bandits in the street.

Now...

Takao was no stranger to infiltrating groups, either to learn more about them or to destroy them, but the local police was also obviously no country bandit group. He was a bit torn; he liked the idea of a large group of people keeping the peace, if that was what they were doing. He did not like the ban on weapons, because after all, who could guarantee that the policemen were righteous and honorable, and how would one defend himself against those who weren't? The irony of his thoughts was not lost on him: the heimin and hinin had to live for centuries under conditions like that, with the samurai lording over them, being either their protectors or their worst tormentors.

Takao bows to Lady Ishikawa as she passes and watches her until she disappears deeper in the building. "A remarkable lady, for sure", he says to the clerk. "I've heard tell that her sharp mind is the equal of her dedication, too."

Then his face becomes serious. "Who do the policemen swear fealty to, the Lady or the Emperor's Peace?" The clerk can immediately tell that much rides on his answer of the question.

"The Emperor's peace, of course," the clerk answers. "The Lady is our leader, but no daimyo - and certainly no claimant to the throne. So, do you still wish to apply?" He pauses for a moment. "I realize this may be awkward for a samurai, to have no lord to serve..."

"I am no samurai, I am ronin. And what higher honor than to serve the Emperor and his peace?"

Takao was relieved, in more than one way. He would not violate his oath to Toshi by joining this policing force. The nature of the vow also told him that, at least at first glance, Lady Ishikawa was not attempting to raise a private army. Her leadership might still make it a de facto one, but no one would be betraying their oath if they did not follow her.

"Which position is open to the likes of me, and what is the weekly pay?"

"We are currently hiring for all positions, from clerks like me, to patrolmen, investigators and officers," the clerk replies. "The payment depends on the position - a clerk like I am will earn only 80 silver a week, but I do work for hire as a scribe in my free time so this suits me. Patrolmen start at 100 silver for week, same for investigators, officers - I do not know, I believe it is somewhere between 150 and 200 silver."

The clerk coughs politely. "Not to disappoint you, Sir, but you must be aware that the positions are filled strictly based on merit. We have former samurai on the patrols and commoners as officers. I hope this does not put you off."

"I have to admit, it is a strange way to handle things. Who decides on the merit of the applicant?"

Takao ponders for a bit longer, then says: "Yes, I'd like to apply for a position. I would prefer an investigator position, if I have any say in it. Something outdoors, to get a feel for the city."

"The training officers, supervised by Lady Ishikawa," the clerk answers. "Of course, for a new recruit, much depends on the results of your physical exam and -"

"I'll take it from here."

The clerk looks up, somewhat more surprised by Lady Ishikawa standing behind him than Takao, who managed to see her walk out of her office. Her voice is raspy and labored, but still loud enough to make herself heard.

"Of course, boss," the clerk says.

Ishikawa turns to Takao, scanning him for a moment. "Shinmen Takao, of the Seishin Dageki Ryu," she says. "Come with me, please."

(assuming Takao follows)

Ishikawa leads Takao to her office, a wooden box inside the hall with plenty of windows to see outside and observe her policemen at work at their desks - and for them to watch her. Her desk is covered in neat piles of scrolls, and the one solid wall harbors shelves filled with more scrolls and even some bound foreign books. She offers Takao a seat, then sits down behind her desk and leans forward, hands folded and elbows resting on the desk.

"Let me be blunt," Ishikawa says. "If you really wish to protect the peace and uphold the law, I'll give you a chance. But if you're just here for the money, find another job - a man of your talents shouldn't find it hard to sell them in this city, for far more than what I offer. You'll probably want to convince me to give you a weapon license for that, though. So, go ahead."

Takao knows he won't be able to deceive this woman.

"I appreciate your directness. Let me be frank in return: you were able to recognize me on sight, without hearing my name, and without seeing the trademark blue saya and second katana. Surely this means you have heard enough of my reputation to know what I did over the last few years of my musha shugyo. Do you think I'm in it for the money?"

"Why don't you ask the question you really want the answer to, namely: what kind of trouble could a ronin who is a self-styled protector of the peasants be following to end up in the capital?"

Takao waits for her nod, then continues: "Well, that I'm trying to find out myself. The capital is very different from what I expected, and what I thought to be criminal activity may be nothing at all. I need some time to learn about this city, and about its customs. During that time, I might as well do what I'm good at: protect the Emperor's peace. I would rather work with you than stand in your way. I can't say I agree with all of your edicts, but your police force is a marvel that, had I known about it earlier, I might have visited the capital solely to see."

"Oh, and the license: any swordsman feels naked without his blades. I'd do this job without a license, though, until you feel that my dedication is tested, if I must. I'd prefer a bokken over the tonfa, though, if that's an option."