Let us leave behind the lucidity of the sunlit realms, and venture now into night's country. This is a place of phantasms and masquerade, where harlequin figures rise from the depths of the unconscious to moments later collapse back into dream. Here the ID is king unfettered by the ego, that banal sentinel of rationality. What lurks within this kingdom are the primordial archetypes, each mirrored countless times, their children a fun-house tableau encompassing all existance.

Can you see the sorcerer? He sits amid the ruins of a once great castle. Wisteria and spider-lily glisten with dew, as the moonlight plays over the scene. Perhaps this fortress once existed in the material world proud and tall, now relegated to little more than dust and bleary memories in the heads of toothless ancients. More likely it is a manifestation of mankind’s desire for mystery. The delicious mixture of awe and dread one feels when stepping into a forgotten place. Something left over from a past age when the gods walked amongst men, and the very air teemed with the unseen threads of destiny.

The magus is clad in black armour. Lacquered plates of obsidian hue serving to obscure his features. What cannot be hidden is his great height. Easily over seven feet and broad as an oni, this gigantism speaks to origins not entirely human. Sure enough the sorcerer is of the clan of Nurarihyon, as other as one whose father laid seed within a fox maiden. Within one gauntleted hand the magi bears a cup of sake. It is a celebratory libation, for tonight is the beginning of a grand experiment.

For a while now there has been a growing disconcertion. Granted the place of mediator between realms this experiment can only be described as an abject failure. Mankind has forgotten their place within the grand scheme of creation. Lulled by the heady knowledge of their own power the ninja had grown complacent. Shakai will be the one to remind them of their own mortality. Through his artes he will call to the fore that primal simian part of the psyche, reminding these self styled lords that there were little more than meandering apes.

Momentarily lost in his reveries, Shakai now draws his attention back to the present. His plan is to draw large swathes of humanity into the realm of the baku, feasting upon the latent power of their psyche. To do this he must display the ability to dominate those who have fallen to sleep. Should he be unable to master these energies the consequences will be momentous for the halfbreed mage. It is a far more prudent choice to attempt the subjugation of a single target here where there is room to learn from his experiences. Once he has down to an art-form then he shall move his talents onto greater volumes of sleepers.

So Shakai tosses his net out for a suitable candidate. It needs to be someone strong, secure in their prowess and fortitude. One versed in both martial kata and the ways of the onmyoji in equal measure. A figure that the ninja would call a jounin.