Partolling the Misty Village (Day)
Nov 29, 2016 20:23:13 GMT -7
Post by Masar on Nov 29, 2016 20:23:13 GMT -7
OOC: Italics = thoughts
As the blood red sun began to burn away some of the mist that perpetually surrounded the hidden mist village, Masar suddenly awoke. His sleep had been uneasy, haunted by strange voices which had echoed in the depths of his mind. Shaking off a vague sense of danger, he dressed and began getting ready for his patrol mission which had been approved a few days earlier. He was determined to prove that he belonged among the Hidden Mist ninjas, and therefore had woken up early to prepare. He slung his katana over his shoulder, strapped a couple pouches to his belt, and departed from his small room inside the village orphanage.
Trampling down the stone steps of his temporary home, he stopped for a moment, glancing around at the rooftops of the stone buildings around him. Where exactly was he supposed to start? These “civil disturbances” could occur almost anywhere in the village, so it would be pure luck if he would stumble across any of the culprits. He supposed that simply walking around the village would be the best way to detect any of these disturbances and pacify them. Resolved to this course of action, Masar departed towards the city center.
He intentionally took the most dangerous route he could think of to arrive at his destination, ducking through damp alleyways and through streets which were….disreputable to say the least. But no one challenged him, with the majority of the people he came across either ducked to the other side of the street, or simply sneered in his face. Mastering his irritation, he continued to move towards the village center. He stopped once to stop a shoplifter who was obviously new to the game, the man just oozed an aura of guilt. Masar took him out with a single small chop to the back of the neck, making a note of the incident in the notebook he had been provided and then slung the small man over his shoulder.
Masar soon arrived in the bustling city center, dropping the unconscious man off to the guards with an explanation of why he had the man in the first place. After a lengthy amount of time, he was finally allowed to continue his patrol. After a quick survey of his surroundings, he found nothing out of the ordinary, except….that. His eyes stopped on a small wooden cart leaving the area, with 3 rather obese men pushing it along. It was all under proper regulation…..but he just felt something was wrong with the picture he was seeing. Unobtrusively as possible, he followed the group, trying to figure out what his instincts were telling him.
After a few minutes, it hit him. The cart the trio were lugging was labeled with the Mist’s medical service, yet they were heading in the opposite direction of the hospital and none of them looked even remotely like medical nins. There could be a plausible explanation for this, but Masar doubted it. Deciding to tail them for now, he stole into an alleyway, running a course parallel to the “medics”. Since this was his first patrol, he wanted more information that pure instinct to justify a takedown.
For a couple of obese medics, these men were unusually skilled at blending into the shadows. Masar had trouble keeping track of them as they weaved from darkened alley to darkened alley, and even lost them a couple times in the early-morning glow, before requiring their proverbial scent. The main problem was that the small procession had no shortage of peers, allowing them to easily blend into the bustling crowd. Currently, the young ninja was trudging along yet another alley in an attempt to reacquire his targets. I swear, if the happy three turn out to be some sort of medicine peddlers I'm going to hurt someone. He kicked a can, listening to it rattle as it passed the edge of the alley. And it’s not gonna be pretty.
Rounding the corner, Masar raised an eyebrow at the sight of his targets entering a small dojo on the other side of the street. Interestingly, they seemed to be offloading the cart, taking several wooden crates out of their cart, then carrying one by one into the building. I’m gonna feel really stupid if they turn out to be who they say they are. The Kyoudo then strolled across the street, outwardly calm but inwardly wound tightly as a spring. He paused for a few seconds to allow the third man to pass inside of the building, then quickly moved over to a stack of boxes and flipped the top off the one crowning the small pile.
Shurikens, stacks and stacks of shurikens, way more than a single dojo could ever want or need. Masar allowed himself a grim smile, at least his first patrol wouldn’t end with him having to report his paranoia. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” The ninja turned to see that his three suspects had remerged, now carrying wooden clubs. “Finding some very suspicious cargo you?” Masar’s amused tone evaporated, “And unless you give me a good reason why you have this many shuriken in a medical cart, I’m gonna have to take you in.” The foremost man’s face twisted into a sneer, “You here that boys? We’re going to jail.” They laughed once, then charged.
Believe it or not, Masar was actually surprised that these men would actually attack an armed ninja and fumbled for the hilt of his sword, taking a few seconds to draw it from its sheath. In that length of time, the club-wielding criminals managed to close the distance between them. The first one swung his club in a diagonal arc, which Masar intercepted with a swing of his long sword, catching it in the wood and deflecting it harmlessly to the side. The second warrior tried the same stratagem, and this time, all Masar could do was sway out of the way. The final club caught him in the side, sending the ninja smashing through the dojo window.
A groaning Masar slowly extricated himself from the pile of glass, slowly getting to his feet. The leader of the trio smacked his club against his palm, “You still think you’re taking us in kid? This is the only way we can make a living, so you can piss off!” Masar growled, flicking his hands through a familiar handseal pattern. The men quickly moved to stop him, but they were too late. A small electric orb formed in Masar’s outstretched palms, and he fired the blast towards the leader, pushing as much chakra into the attack as he dared.
The stream of lightning took the leader in the chest, slamming him hard against the wall and inflicting some minor burns on his chest. Masar frowned, the man wasn’t even close to being out, but he had at least bought himself a few seconds. Probably should train that more, I really need a good ranged justu. Thug 1 and Thug 2 were quickly closing, and he was still currently unarmed, his sword lying around 5 meters away. It was a predicament many would be terrified by, but Masar still had one more card up his sleeve, but he needed some time to execute the stratagem, and with the pair only 2 meters away now, he simply didn’t have the time. 10 seconds, is a long time isn’t it. Really should train more.
Taking a deep breath, the young ninja began weaving his final set of handseals, moving as fast as he could without making that small, fatal mistake. The last sign was just completed when one of his foes smacked him across the room with a dull smack! Absorbing the impact the best he could, Masar once again slowly rose to his feet, opening his eyes to reveal a diagonal pattern of dots around the irises. In the small period of hesitation between bouts, he threw all of his remaining energies into magnetizing his sword, aiming to give it the same charge as one of his senbons, so he could grab it.
The men, their leader finally having gotten over his shock and rejoined them hurdled insults and jeers at the figure, believing him to have frozen in fear. “What’s wrong kid? Cat got your tongue?” Masar simply smiled, lifted the senbon above his head and positioned this hateful figure in between the figure and his weapon. The polarization completed, Masar dug in his heels in an effort to hold his ground between the opposing forces of nature. Curious at his behavior, the unfortunate thug opened his mouth to spit out some insult, only to have his eyes glaze over as the leather pommel smashed into the back of his head. Leaping forward, the ninja managed to pry his sword from under the body before the other two could get over their shock.
Moving quickly, Masar attempted a kick at the right man’s stomach, only to have the warrior sway backwards. He wasn’t so fortunate with the next attack, which involved the flat of Masar’s blade hitting the side of his head with all the force of his upper body behind it. Two of his foes disabled in the confusion, he turned to face the last fighter, sword in hand. “I’m giving you one chance to just throw down your weapon.” Masar watched the man carefully, saw his hesitation. Maybe….he’ll give up. His idle hope was dashed as the man swung his club in a downwards arc with a howling battle cry. Masar, swung his blade to intercept, catching the simple weapon in the exact spot that the two weapons had met before, slicing the weapon in half. Masar then grabbed the man’s head, and slammed it with all of his strength into the dojo floor. The young ninja stayed in that position for a minute or two, happy to see the fight was over, and conscious of the fade of adrenaline and it’s associated pain. Gritting his teeth, Masar limped out of the dojo, aiming for the nearest guard post. This might… take some explaining.
As the blood red sun began to burn away some of the mist that perpetually surrounded the hidden mist village, Masar suddenly awoke. His sleep had been uneasy, haunted by strange voices which had echoed in the depths of his mind. Shaking off a vague sense of danger, he dressed and began getting ready for his patrol mission which had been approved a few days earlier. He was determined to prove that he belonged among the Hidden Mist ninjas, and therefore had woken up early to prepare. He slung his katana over his shoulder, strapped a couple pouches to his belt, and departed from his small room inside the village orphanage.
Trampling down the stone steps of his temporary home, he stopped for a moment, glancing around at the rooftops of the stone buildings around him. Where exactly was he supposed to start? These “civil disturbances” could occur almost anywhere in the village, so it would be pure luck if he would stumble across any of the culprits. He supposed that simply walking around the village would be the best way to detect any of these disturbances and pacify them. Resolved to this course of action, Masar departed towards the city center.
He intentionally took the most dangerous route he could think of to arrive at his destination, ducking through damp alleyways and through streets which were….disreputable to say the least. But no one challenged him, with the majority of the people he came across either ducked to the other side of the street, or simply sneered in his face. Mastering his irritation, he continued to move towards the village center. He stopped once to stop a shoplifter who was obviously new to the game, the man just oozed an aura of guilt. Masar took him out with a single small chop to the back of the neck, making a note of the incident in the notebook he had been provided and then slung the small man over his shoulder.
Masar soon arrived in the bustling city center, dropping the unconscious man off to the guards with an explanation of why he had the man in the first place. After a lengthy amount of time, he was finally allowed to continue his patrol. After a quick survey of his surroundings, he found nothing out of the ordinary, except….that. His eyes stopped on a small wooden cart leaving the area, with 3 rather obese men pushing it along. It was all under proper regulation…..but he just felt something was wrong with the picture he was seeing. Unobtrusively as possible, he followed the group, trying to figure out what his instincts were telling him.
After a few minutes, it hit him. The cart the trio were lugging was labeled with the Mist’s medical service, yet they were heading in the opposite direction of the hospital and none of them looked even remotely like medical nins. There could be a plausible explanation for this, but Masar doubted it. Deciding to tail them for now, he stole into an alleyway, running a course parallel to the “medics”. Since this was his first patrol, he wanted more information that pure instinct to justify a takedown.
For a couple of obese medics, these men were unusually skilled at blending into the shadows. Masar had trouble keeping track of them as they weaved from darkened alley to darkened alley, and even lost them a couple times in the early-morning glow, before requiring their proverbial scent. The main problem was that the small procession had no shortage of peers, allowing them to easily blend into the bustling crowd. Currently, the young ninja was trudging along yet another alley in an attempt to reacquire his targets. I swear, if the happy three turn out to be some sort of medicine peddlers I'm going to hurt someone. He kicked a can, listening to it rattle as it passed the edge of the alley. And it’s not gonna be pretty.
Rounding the corner, Masar raised an eyebrow at the sight of his targets entering a small dojo on the other side of the street. Interestingly, they seemed to be offloading the cart, taking several wooden crates out of their cart, then carrying one by one into the building. I’m gonna feel really stupid if they turn out to be who they say they are. The Kyoudo then strolled across the street, outwardly calm but inwardly wound tightly as a spring. He paused for a few seconds to allow the third man to pass inside of the building, then quickly moved over to a stack of boxes and flipped the top off the one crowning the small pile.
Shurikens, stacks and stacks of shurikens, way more than a single dojo could ever want or need. Masar allowed himself a grim smile, at least his first patrol wouldn’t end with him having to report his paranoia. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” The ninja turned to see that his three suspects had remerged, now carrying wooden clubs. “Finding some very suspicious cargo you?” Masar’s amused tone evaporated, “And unless you give me a good reason why you have this many shuriken in a medical cart, I’m gonna have to take you in.” The foremost man’s face twisted into a sneer, “You here that boys? We’re going to jail.” They laughed once, then charged.
Believe it or not, Masar was actually surprised that these men would actually attack an armed ninja and fumbled for the hilt of his sword, taking a few seconds to draw it from its sheath. In that length of time, the club-wielding criminals managed to close the distance between them. The first one swung his club in a diagonal arc, which Masar intercepted with a swing of his long sword, catching it in the wood and deflecting it harmlessly to the side. The second warrior tried the same stratagem, and this time, all Masar could do was sway out of the way. The final club caught him in the side, sending the ninja smashing through the dojo window.
A groaning Masar slowly extricated himself from the pile of glass, slowly getting to his feet. The leader of the trio smacked his club against his palm, “You still think you’re taking us in kid? This is the only way we can make a living, so you can piss off!” Masar growled, flicking his hands through a familiar handseal pattern. The men quickly moved to stop him, but they were too late. A small electric orb formed in Masar’s outstretched palms, and he fired the blast towards the leader, pushing as much chakra into the attack as he dared.
The stream of lightning took the leader in the chest, slamming him hard against the wall and inflicting some minor burns on his chest. Masar frowned, the man wasn’t even close to being out, but he had at least bought himself a few seconds. Probably should train that more, I really need a good ranged justu. Thug 1 and Thug 2 were quickly closing, and he was still currently unarmed, his sword lying around 5 meters away. It was a predicament many would be terrified by, but Masar still had one more card up his sleeve, but he needed some time to execute the stratagem, and with the pair only 2 meters away now, he simply didn’t have the time. 10 seconds, is a long time isn’t it. Really should train more.
Taking a deep breath, the young ninja began weaving his final set of handseals, moving as fast as he could without making that small, fatal mistake. The last sign was just completed when one of his foes smacked him across the room with a dull smack! Absorbing the impact the best he could, Masar once again slowly rose to his feet, opening his eyes to reveal a diagonal pattern of dots around the irises. In the small period of hesitation between bouts, he threw all of his remaining energies into magnetizing his sword, aiming to give it the same charge as one of his senbons, so he could grab it.
The men, their leader finally having gotten over his shock and rejoined them hurdled insults and jeers at the figure, believing him to have frozen in fear. “What’s wrong kid? Cat got your tongue?” Masar simply smiled, lifted the senbon above his head and positioned this hateful figure in between the figure and his weapon. The polarization completed, Masar dug in his heels in an effort to hold his ground between the opposing forces of nature. Curious at his behavior, the unfortunate thug opened his mouth to spit out some insult, only to have his eyes glaze over as the leather pommel smashed into the back of his head. Leaping forward, the ninja managed to pry his sword from under the body before the other two could get over their shock.
Moving quickly, Masar attempted a kick at the right man’s stomach, only to have the warrior sway backwards. He wasn’t so fortunate with the next attack, which involved the flat of Masar’s blade hitting the side of his head with all the force of his upper body behind it. Two of his foes disabled in the confusion, he turned to face the last fighter, sword in hand. “I’m giving you one chance to just throw down your weapon.” Masar watched the man carefully, saw his hesitation. Maybe….he’ll give up. His idle hope was dashed as the man swung his club in a downwards arc with a howling battle cry. Masar, swung his blade to intercept, catching the simple weapon in the exact spot that the two weapons had met before, slicing the weapon in half. Masar then grabbed the man’s head, and slammed it with all of his strength into the dojo floor. The young ninja stayed in that position for a minute or two, happy to see the fight was over, and conscious of the fade of adrenaline and it’s associated pain. Gritting his teeth, Masar limped out of the dojo, aiming for the nearest guard post. This might… take some explaining.