Focus. That's not good enough, damn it.
Got it. It's been nearly three months of
planning, but the battle for the soul of Himalayan Rift
continues. Feel through your.
Motion be cut through the anguish.
The Way of the Jaded Fist, the offshoot of my master Saiyans
Verdant Pass sect, is alive and well.
Fight through it, Daniel. Kai Lung appears to have control
over the darkness inside her. Counter, counter.
And as Miralda walks her own path toward redemption, good.
My little sister Marta, she. Strong effort my student.
She took some time for her own personal projects in her
laboratory. A boy, the whisper Rut who?
But the Rift has grown darker than any of us feared higher
levels of spiritual corruption, acts of cruelty spreading like
wildfire. It's not just Lord Valerius
anymore. Villains rise in the shadows,
each one gnawing at the roots of this world.
The wood is honest, Daniel. It doesn't lie.
It doesn't flatter. Treat it as a mirror and you'll
come to see yourself more clearly.
Understood. Thank you, Master.
Good morning. Oh, am I intruding on your
exercises, Danny? Good morning.
No, it's OK. I was just finishing up.
What's going on? A messenger stumbled into the
inn this morning. Troubling news from Morning.
Vale village says it's urgent. Oh no, define urgent Esmeralda.
Because there's reports of an unprovoked Jiangsu attack that's
nearly wiped out an entire village.
What? One omen seldom walks alone.
Rose. If the morning veil stirs, then
the rift itself will answer in kind.
You will see the number of cases swell, villagers waking to
shadows at their doors, names unraveling in the night.
Prepare yourself. This is not an end, but the
beginning of many reckonings. Reckonings, you say?
Wonderful. Whisper Steel speaks the truth
also. We're a local commodity, it
seems. Yeah.
Duty calls we're obliged to answer.
Boy, May's not going to be happy about this.
I know, and I'm sorry, Danny, I really did consider your side of
it all. I just If this brings us closer
to bringing Valerius to justice, I We cannot afford to let this
slip from our grasp. All right, when do we head out?
No time better than the present. I was afraid he was going to say
that. Yep, he's on a roll.
Yeah, I can see that, Whispers. In the bamboo Grove.
Shadows dance beneath the moon meets carrying gales of.
Ancient tones hearts awaken to the.
Moon. None.
Tales of the Rift Way of the Jaded Fist.
South of Harbour Town, where the forest roads twist between stone
shrines and shadowed clearings rose, and Esmeralda took their
leave. Supplies packed, blades
sharpened, they set their course toward Morning Veil, a place
where whispers carry heavier than wind.
At the crossroads, they found their company.
Tashi, the guide, a man of weathered grace whose eyes had
walked more roads than his boots, and a travelling merchant
burdened with wares and rumour alike.
Together, the four turned E toward a village left trembling
from tales of Jiang Shu and a message said to be urgent enough
to shake even the most disciplined path.
So begins their passage, not into battle yet, but into the
hush before battle, into mourning Vale.
Good. It's worse.
Than I could have imagined. Oh my gosh.
Charred beams, shattered wards, corpses.
Hollowed, there's no color, no soul.
If hitting the books on this sort of thing taught me
anything, drained cheese without talismans points to one hand.
Classic Butcher signature. Great master Fond.
We've met cross paths on more than one occasion.
Every clash felt less like a fight, more like surviving the
weapon. I can imagine.
Don't win, don't. And he doesn't like me very
much. Full disclosure has stole from
him once. Well.
I stole something back, Something his goons lifted off
an old client of mine. Sounds complicated.
Partner business is business, I suppose.
Merciful flying, watch over this place.
May the dead find rest where the living.
Could not sorry friend. Tashi, thank you for escorting
us. Yes, thank you Ojisan the back
to the matter at hand. This is definitely Master Fong
style. How however?
Well, that would explain his hunger.
We've all heard the tales. Villages drained like this,
every last name consumed. Interesting.
What are your thoughts on the matter, friend Tashi?
The butcher? No, not here, not so close to
Harbour Town. If the butcher truly walks this
valley, no wall, no prayer will hold him.
Back agreed. Fairpoint, hang on.
Survivor right here. Careful.
Hey fella, try not to move. Not Vong.
Not the butcher. He's been inflicted with a
suffer seal, a curse of seals. They wore masks.
Masks. Painted Suns.
Wait, hold on, wait. He's gone, Danny, damn it.
Painted Suns. That's what he said.
But. Painted Suns.
What do you make of it, partner? Every ruin I've seen bears
falling's hunger. This this is different painted.
Masks, friend Merchant, You had told us earlier you stayed
behind to tend to some of the other survivors.
There were a few things you'd mentioned about the tragedy that
occurred here at Morning Vale. Could you go back over it again?
Yes, please, so that we can begin to make sense of all this.
I locked that confusion. I stayed when others left.
A trader doesn't often linger when coin dries up, but someone
needed to tend the old ones. Awfully kind of you.
They still needed herbs for fever, kalaf for bandages.
Yeah, I can tell by your pack there how prepared you are for a
day's journey, perhaps several. Impressive.
You are too kind, Mr. Rose. Truth is, it took years of lost
and stolen merchandise to perfect this method.
A painful lesson earned, I suppose.
Then every theft became your tutor.
Hard lessons, yes, but ones that leave no room for carelessness
in the rift. We all carry scars for teachers.
True enough, I just. Am I the only one that believes
this to be the work of the Dawn of Shadow?
I understand that John Schur being involved, but what if you?
Think an immortal demigod like Fong would stoop to bargain with
a mere mortal. Well, no, you should mention.
That she's a beast of pure hunger, a force beyond reason,
beyond nature itself. Only Fong leaves ruins like
this. She's right.
Master Fong sometimes slays even his own minions for sport.
Valorous's head would sooner be served on a plate than serve
under Thong, never mind as an equal.
I know she's right, but I've got that funny feeling.
There's more to it than that. A sip of tea for your silence
partner. I also made a bargain with Thong
and I'm mortal. That's true, but.
Look, all I'm saying is that I think there's more to all of
this. Something's not sitting right
and a pit of my stomach as Peralta.
The gut never lies. Danny Wisdom lies in silence
until the truth reveals itself. We'll remain quiet, steady.
Gather every fact before we strike its shadows.
All right, we'll play it by ear for now.
Night had settled over the rift. Beyond the charred village,
ruins rose, and Esmeralda made camp beneath the canopy, their
guide keeping watch on the road ahead.
Supplies were scarce, answers scarce, Yet even in the hush of
the forest, voices could still reach across distance, carried
not by wind but by Talisman light.
Thank you, Esmeralda. Talisman.
Light honestly fills that little void between lanterns shine and
dead dark of night. I would say a light is a light,
but I think we both know that isn't the case.
Yeah. Nice night.
The stars are sharper here than I remember, almost like they're
leaning in, listening. You're gonna have to get used to
camping like this. I know we won't always have the
coin to rent room for the night. Yeah, it's definitely cause for
adjustment, but you're good at that sort of thing, partner.
You're too kind. Truly, I am one of the types who
wouldn't be able to find my own hands had they not been attached
to my arms. Two things can be true, I
suppose. Yeah, we suppose.
Silly. I used to think nights like this
were for wishes, but I've learned better.
They're for resolve, for deciding what kind of dawn you
want to wake to. Still, I wouldn't mind more
nights like this. Quiet, just us.
Steady before the storm. Yeah, quiet's a rare thing these
days. Makes a man want to believe it
could last. Danny, something else on your
mind, dear? Speak freely.
You can talk to me about anything.
Ezzy, I'll be real with you. Yes, that's what I.
I like what I see in you now, the way you fight, the way you
read a field. It feels steady, feels right,
and I want to trust that. Danny.
I want to trust you. And I want to earn that trust.
I know you do. So tell me about tonight's tea.
Nothing rare, just a mountain blend.
Bitter leaf touch of ginger root keeps the mind sharp, the blood
steady. Old verdant habit I suppose.
Something to pair well with our dumplings.
Yeah, it grounded me. Been a long time since I had tea
that tasted like discipline. Thank you.
But I keep thinking about the years you weren't verdant, about
the Crimson Needle, about what they asked of you, what you gave
them. I don't need every scar laid
bare, but I need to know who's standing beside me, who I'm
putting my life on the line with.
I see. And the needle.
They taught me precision control, how to cut away doubt
until only the mission remained. It kept me alive, but it cost me
more than I'll ever admit out loud.
Friends, choices, pieces of myself I can't get back.
Every step leaves weight. I walked away before they
hollowed me out completely. That's the truth I can give you
tonight. I won't pretend I didn't stain
my hands, but I'm not their blade anymore.
I'd rather break before I bend to them again.
So that's how it is, huh? You've asked me about my
shadows. Fair's fair.
What about you, Danny? Those years with the government,
you never talk about them. Not much to say I was good at
the job. What did you do?
Kicked down doors, chased killers, sordid lies from truth.
I wore their badge and called it justice.
But truth is I was a dog on their leash.
They pointed, I bit. And when the budget dried up,
Harbor Towns, investigators, good people were left with
scraps. Cases went cold, families went
unheard all those years. And what did it buy?
A record that looks clean on paper, but it doesn't feel clean
here. I retired before they could hang
me up like an old coat. Better to walk than wait for a
pat on the head. I can understand that.
Can you though? More than you think.
Can you understand feeling of being used and tossed away like
so much rubbish? Just a faulty, dated part of a
system that only saw value in your skills.
Don't get me wrong, I had a nest egg, enough to buy the jade
Lantern, keep a roof overhead. But for a while I was lost.
A living, breathing corpse. No purpose, no drive.
There was a stretch of time where I wouldn't have minded not
existing, just fading out quiet. We have more in common than you
know, and one day I'll be brave enough to share my pain like you
so boldly shared yours, Rose. Take your time Esmeralda, I'll
be around. Besides, you and I have a case
to solve. Try and get some sleep.
After breakfast, we'll discuss our next move.
Sound good? Sounds great partner, sleep
well. We'll get back to who or what is
responsible for the senseless Jiangsu attack on the village of
Morning Vale. But first, I'd like to talk to
all of you about our friends Kelly, Helpy, Bonnie, Foxy, and
the rest of the Haunted Masquerade, the best show in
town. Behold the smoke and mirrors,
the illusion. How do they do it?
Don't ask too many questions, dear listener, for you may
regret finding the answers you seek.
That's right, The Haunted Masquerade is a Five Nights at
Freddy's audio drama for fans, made by fans centered around
Kelly Elmsley's show, The Hottest Ticket in Town, an
interactive audio drama with puzzles, mini games, lore hunts
and a whole lot of animatronics. Check out The Haunted Masquerade
on YouTube and Spotify. And now back to Danny Rose, Lady
Esmeralda, and names that burn. Dawn came grey over Morning
Veil. The air carried A heaviness that
no sun could lift. Yet within the inn's timber
walls, the smell of rice porridge and tea gave brief
comfort. Rose, Esmeralda and Uncle Tashi
gathered at a low table, taking in more than breakfast taking.
In with teas. And one bowl of.
Rice porridge. You have our thighs.
Village still feels thick. It's like the air itself is
still grieving. It always has.
Morning Bale was known across the Rift for its home going
ceremonies. I heard they can be quite
elaborate. Elaborate.
Reverent. Mm.
Hmm. When a soul left this plane,
they sent it on with song, incense, carved effigies.
Even in grief, the people took pride in honoring the dead.
Explains the wards and the shrines not meant for war but
for remembrance, a way of keeping the veil between worlds
at peace. Yes, outsiders called it morbid,
a village too comfortable with shadow.
But those who lived here knew death is not darkness.
It is duty. The living, oh, the dead.
A proper passage. It's the least we can do in
these times. Agreed.
And now, passage torn away, names burned, it's left is just
silence. Then we must give the silence
meaning. We'll see who's behind this and
why they defile a place that lived to honour the dead.
I've read of Morning Vale's ceremonies.
Elaborate rites, yes, but also the passages.
Hidden ways carved into the southeastern connecting forests
by master ritualists. Pathways meant to guide mourners
but also to protect travellers. You've done your reading.
Oh yes, the forest paths here are older than stone, mapped by,
well ceremony leaders whose names are still sung to this
day. They gave Morning Vale its
reputation for safe passage. Messengers, envoys.
They all knew this was a trusted stop, so we protected it.
Makes sense? Excuse me, I I couldn't help but
overhear your conversation and. It's all right.
Is there something you need to share?
Well, something's been bothering me.
Go on, friend maiden, We're all ears.
Well, all right. I work as one of the villager
handmaidens tasked with readying the quarters of special guest
visitors from abroad. And the New Republic had sent us
word of an important dignitary due to arrive.
Oh, he should have reached the village over a week ago.
A week ago. Well, that's interesting, isn't
it? Aye.
Before we had a chance to inquire further, the Jiang, she
struck the village. The village was wrecked, the
dead given no wrath, no farewell.
Sorry friend Tashi for your loss.
Our prayers below to the Spirit above.
It's a disgrace, it's wrong. The dead do not deserve this,
nor do the living. A tragedy someone will answer
for, trust me. By the way, Ojisan, Any idea of
the nature of the dignitary's business?
No, only that he was bound S after a brief stay here two
nights, no more, long enough to rest, perhaps meet with a few
village elders and then move on. I see.
Interesting. Then why would he skip Morning
Vale altogether? Or perhaps he's here, but
Incognito. How's your son?
You were born and raised here. How often has Morningvale been
subject to John Schur attacks? Rarer than an Amarillo.
The moon, I'll tell you. Yeah, in all my years here, I
can count the incidents on one hand.
Most of those were just Wanderers driven off by wards,
not whole swarms. That ain't normal.
We get the strays. Right the.
Ones that break away from the pack.
Nothing like this. This is calculated.
I agree this wasn't chance. The Zhangshu didn't just stumble
here, they were lead baited. What we do know, the dignitaries
disappearance in the Zhangshu strike aren't separate threads.
They're tangled, connected. But we need more than
speculation. One survivor, one voice, could
turn whispers in the truth. We'll talk to a villager,
someone who saw the attack and lived to tell about it.
And so the morning meal ended with more questions than
answers. Rare as an emerald, the moon,
Tashi had said. And yet here the Jiangsu had
come not by chance, but by some darker design.
In the stillness of my wounded mind I feel the pulse, the
ancient rhythm mind every breath of challenge, every thought of
fight. Yet through the darkness I
embrace, the light I rise. I stand unbroken through the
storm. I rise.
I stand in spirit. I am born.
Drumbeats echo where my courage dwells.
From inner struggle, my true strength swells.
Open the path within me. Let shadows be my guide.
Turn pain into purpose and fear into pride.
The cast and crew of Way of the Jaded Fist wants to wish you all
a Happy Halloween. And for those of you seeking to
kick back and relax with a spooky story, I have just the
fiction podcast for you. The Midnight Manuscripts follows
a young man who discovers A cursed quill scribing even more
a cursed and deeply disturbing stories varying from ghostly
encounters to haunted war missions, all read by the
chillingly talented Bradford Sigmund Towvitch.
So go now to Spotify in search of The Midnight Manuscripts for
a mega dose of unadulterated horror and tell him, oh, Getty
sent you over, huh? And now back to names that burn,
starring Desmond Childs as Danny Rose.
The morning meal gave way to quieter halls.
While Esmeralda and Tashi tended to supplies, Rose stepped alone
into the village Infirmary, a place built for broken bones and
fever, never for slaughter. Within its walls, one woman
clung to breath, her child lost to the night.
Afternoon, Mr. Rose. Well met.
I wish we were meeting on more fairer times, but I've got some
questions I need to ask you. You and, well, our patient here.
That all right. But of course, what kind of
practitioner would I be blocking the path to retribution?
But I must confess, we've poultices, herbs, but none of it
prepares you for this. I've mended wounds from talons
and teeth, but these husks, this corruption of the spirit, it's
beyond my craft. Suddenly, the merchant from
earlier named Lin Shu Yin appears from seemingly thin air,
moving to the side of the weary physician in support and
comfort. You've done all you can, Sensei.
Rest a moment. I'll stay with her.
I suppose a short walk outside may do me some good by the Rift.
It's already this late into the evening.
I'll be back in a moment. Lynn Leanne, will you be all
right without me? It's it's fine.
I'll manage somehow. Besides, I've got ol.
Lynn here to keep me company and this guy I suppose.
Name's Danny Rose. I help wherever I can.
Mind if I ask you some questions about what you saw out there?
You're safe now, just breathe. You're Leanne, right?
That's me. Leanne, I'm sorry for what
you've lost, but if you have strength, I need to ask a few
things. My boy, he was all I had.
They came in the dark so fast the wards fell apart like paper
in rain. Just blue.
Did you see how they moved? Was anyone leading them?
Not Fong or the Butcher, their talismans wrong and their masks
Suns painted in red faces I'll never forget.
Painted Suns again. You've heard of this before.
Yep, it took me a minute to recall, but yes, more than once.
It's no accident. Whoever wore those masks brought
this horror to Morning Vale. They took names, spoke them
aloud. As they struck, my boy's name
burned before my eyes. Then this wasn't hunger.
It was designed. I, I'm sorry, go forward with
me. The dawn of shadow, I presume.
Excuse me? That's who you mean.
Yes. That band of Aruku worshippers
whispering corruption in the dark.
Tell me, Rose, what motive would they have to unleash this horror
on Morning Veil to strike a village known for safe passage
and ceremony? If not the dawn of shadow, then
who? No, this tragedy reeks of
hunger, of unchecked unholy power.
Fong himself. You're familiar with the work of
Master Fong Lin? Intriguing.
A humble merchant dabbling in the occult.
One doesn't need to dabble to know a storm when it breaks
overhead. Stories of Fong travel far
farther than coin, farther than names.
Any merchant whose walk the rift has hurt them.
I've returned from my. Suddenly and urgent to knock at
the door. Physician quickly a body's been
found behind one of the huts near the village entrance.
By the ancestors another. Where exactly?
Which Hut? Near the road just past the inn.
Looks like it's been there since the night of the attack.
The inn, The ambassador's office, just where she said that
figure ran. So the trail lengthened, grief
giving way to fresh discovery, a body at the gates where safe
passage once began. Today's episode isn't just the
Halloween story arc, it also marks the second season of Way
of the Jaded Fist. Need to catch up?
Head on over to jadedfistdrama.wordpress.com for
lore posts, episodes and transcripts, as well as original
soundtracks from the show. Our research shows that more
than 40% of you, the listeners, listen to our stories on our
show page. We cannot tell you how much we
appreciate the support, dear listeners.
And now, back to names that burn the first part of a strange
mystery steeped in Morning Vale. At the village gates where Safe
Passage once began, a crowd had gathered behind the ambassador's
Hut. A body had been found left to
rot since the night of the attack.
All right. I need everyone to stay back.
Please. Neck wound clean.
Decisive. This wasn't Zhang Shir frenzy.
Somebody wanted him. Silenced.
Not just silenced. Look here beneath the cut, a
suffer seal. So they didn't just end his
life, they cut out his essence. Precisely.
A seal like this erases more than breath.
It unravels memory, burns identity.
To a medical magus, it's a locked door.
Unless someone knew him in life, his name is gone.
How awful. Does.
Anyone know this man? I don't know his face, never
seen him before. Nor I.
He's no one from Morning Vale. Which which means he's an
outsider. Which means he came here with
purpose. Oh my gosh, Danny, the missing
dignitary, or someone sent ahead to guard his passage.
Silenced, sealed, erased before we could ask why.
Painted Suns leave no witnesses, not even memories.
Truth is a dull blade, yet sharper than any smile worn to
hide the wound. Rose and Esmeralda will be back
sooner than you think to solve the mysterious case of the
Painted Sun's murders. Next time, we'll check in with
May, Dre, Asako, Kai, Lung, and Marta.
See you all next time. Way of the Jaded Fist is
produced and written by Desmond Childs.
Silk words fall apart. A jagged truth cuts deeper,
leaving scars that teach. Today's special guest stars were
Alex Green as Lynn Shuyin and Bradford Zigmontovic as Uncle
Tashi. Special thanks to Leah Wade,
Jessica Anne Bogart and Carter the Mountain King.
Raymond Getty, your faithful show announcer, signing off
again. None.
This series blends real performances with AI assisted
voices, all used with paid permission.
Remote recordings were contributed by participating
actors and no voice cloning was done without consent.
We are committed to using AI responsibly as a creative tool,
never as a means of unethical theft.
This project is a blend of talent and technology.