Katsuyori had not visited the Dragon lands before. The stereotypes his sensei had ingrained in him made the place sound ridiculous and from what he has seen till now he maintained that opinion. Still a geisha house was a proper way for a samurai to spend his time and he entered the establishment without much care. He still wore crimson robes. They bore no mons though and there was no mask on his face. He took off his hood and allowed the Obsidian Moon to caress his face. The air kami were good to him and he bore Benten's Touch [OOC: I activate an appropriate paper ward, as I enter, on me]
He took a moment to savour the decadency of the place. It was well above the standards of places he enjoyed, but compromises was something he knew well. It hasn't been always easy to choose between two evils. They were in Dragon lands after all. He looked around to spot any other samurai and then headed to a table waiting for the okasan to join him.
He was old. There were wrinkles in his face as well as some scars that never healed completely, some of the intentionally, some not. He had black circles, the change in sleeping hours was still effecting him.
Some music and sake will help. I might also have some company he thought.
Geisha within the lands of the Dragon Clan are renowned for their brilliance and wit. Those who live in the shadow of Shiro Mirumoto are far from an exception. The best girls are the most educated and have almost a monkish dedication to the pursuit of beauty through wisdom. The Perch’s okasan is Gion, a keen-tongued singer for whom rumors persist that she is the secret paramore of the Fortune Fukurokujin or is even the Oracle of Fire.
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