Nie Huaisang 聂怀桑 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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marlowemuses2023-09-21 06:53 pm
fanoperator) wrote in marlowemuses2023-09-21 06:53 pm
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The Littlest Nie Heir
Huaisang's desperate.
His brother's murderer seems to grow more powerful and prosperous with every passing year, and Huaisang has no proof, no progress, and no real defenses against the possibility of his own murder. All he can do is keep acting clueless, and even that defense has meant that his sect grows weaker and poorer as time goes on.
History had never been one of Huaisang's passions, but in reviewing old documents about the construction of Qinghe, he found some records that referenced even older documents. They claimed that more than two hundred years ago, while the deeper cellars and storage chambers had been built into the mountain, some of the Nie ancestors had bound a spirit to protect a weapon of great power. But the spirit would only allow its power to be used by someone worthy, and more than one generation had tried to use the spirit only to find themselves deemed unworthy, until the cavern where the spirit lived had been bricked up entirely.
Huaisang wasn't clear on why they needed to brick the spirit's cavern up like that, since it wasn't doing anything (it seemed like the whole problem was that it kept refusing to do anything), and he also couldn't imagine that there was any chance that he (the disappointment of his sect) would succeed at a measurement where his ancestors had failed. But maybe the spirit just really didn't like unyielding muscle-bound swordmen. Huaisang could be remarkably persuasive. And anyway, now he was curious.
The location of the spirit's cavern was quite straightforward, off a certain storage chamber, so it only took a pair of workmen a couple of hours to open the wall.
Huaisang went in alone, dismissing the workmen and telling his attendant to wait outside. He trusted his attendants, and knew that Toutong would worry, but if there was something dangerous in here, Huaisang didn't want anyone else put at risk for his curiosity. He'd learned that lesson once before.
The chamber was a simple round cave, with an intricate carved pattern on the floor made up of sigils that Huaisang didn't recognize. At the center was a short pillar with a little jade statuette.
Huaisang strode up to it, only a little bit wary, and picked up the statuette. It was solid jade, heavy in his hand and larger than both his fists together (not that he had particularly large hands). "Tiangou," he murmured, recognizing the stylized carving as representative of a monstrous dog-spirit. He tapped the little statuette on its nose, wondering why the eyes had been painted with some old and flaking red-brown paint.
His brother's murderer seems to grow more powerful and prosperous with every passing year, and Huaisang has no proof, no progress, and no real defenses against the possibility of his own murder. All he can do is keep acting clueless, and even that defense has meant that his sect grows weaker and poorer as time goes on.
History had never been one of Huaisang's passions, but in reviewing old documents about the construction of Qinghe, he found some records that referenced even older documents. They claimed that more than two hundred years ago, while the deeper cellars and storage chambers had been built into the mountain, some of the Nie ancestors had bound a spirit to protect a weapon of great power. But the spirit would only allow its power to be used by someone worthy, and more than one generation had tried to use the spirit only to find themselves deemed unworthy, until the cavern where the spirit lived had been bricked up entirely.
Huaisang wasn't clear on why they needed to brick the spirit's cavern up like that, since it wasn't doing anything (it seemed like the whole problem was that it kept refusing to do anything), and he also couldn't imagine that there was any chance that he (the disappointment of his sect) would succeed at a measurement where his ancestors had failed. But maybe the spirit just really didn't like unyielding muscle-bound swordmen. Huaisang could be remarkably persuasive. And anyway, now he was curious.
The location of the spirit's cavern was quite straightforward, off a certain storage chamber, so it only took a pair of workmen a couple of hours to open the wall.
Huaisang went in alone, dismissing the workmen and telling his attendant to wait outside. He trusted his attendants, and knew that Toutong would worry, but if there was something dangerous in here, Huaisang didn't want anyone else put at risk for his curiosity. He'd learned that lesson once before.
The chamber was a simple round cave, with an intricate carved pattern on the floor made up of sigils that Huaisang didn't recognize. At the center was a short pillar with a little jade statuette.
Huaisang strode up to it, only a little bit wary, and picked up the statuette. It was solid jade, heavy in his hand and larger than both his fists together (not that he had particularly large hands). "Tiangou," he murmured, recognizing the stylized carving as representative of a monstrous dog-spirit. He tapped the little statuette on its nose, wondering why the eyes had been painted with some old and flaking red-brown paint.