Red Waters [TRAINING]
Aug 13, 2012 19:48:56 GMT -7
Post by Orpheus on Aug 13, 2012 19:48:56 GMT -7
Location: The Crimson Forest
This is the intro post to the thread. I'll get to training with the next post (providing I'm not butchered in a random encounter), as I'd rather not detract from the actual training with my long-winded stories of terrain and geography.
This thread is open, and if you'd like to join me - then simply PM me, we'll work something out. Folks from Grass are welcome too as the forest connects with their country.
---------
Hideo Kishimoto looked down at the map again, green eyes looked over the lines and symbols on the paper. He nodded his head, confirming indeed that he'd taken the correct route that he intended. The road he walked lead a winding course southwards through the Land of the Waterfall, it's ultimate course led to the Grass country. But at the borderland, lay a place spoken about in hushed tones in both countries: The Red Forest; the Forest of Sorrow. It had been the site of a horrific battle between the two Nations and the forest had been ultimately changed by the experience.
It was to this place that Hideo sought to go.
He'd at first wondered why when the thought first hatched in his mind. The stories spoke of the place as if it were haunted by the ghosts of those dead soldiers, and worse things. Ninja even held the place in a mystical and mysterious regard, much like the rest of the folk in the country. With all of the rumors, he'd dismissed the thought almost as soon as it'd arrived. There was no need for him to go all the way to this strange and fearful place.
The thought returned though, and remained this time. Hideo had rarely been outside of the Village since he was admitted to the Academy all those years ago, and he'd never left his native country. He never really felt a desire to until a few months ago. A wanderlust ignited in the man's heart like one he'd never felt. The Village seemed a very small part of the world now, and he wanted to see some of it.
So Hideo had resolved to go to the Crimson Forest, both as an exercise in adventure and as a statement of his resolve to better himself. He wanted to see this place firsthand, a place where so many men had died.
He folded up his map, and stuffed it back into his belt. He'd started from the village on the wagon of a farmer returning into the countryside. This brought him far enough south that he could continue the rest of the way on-foot. He'd stayed at small inns during the nights of his walks, and he moved quickly and discreetly during the day. Hideo was no fool, and was entirely aware of the potential dangers of the road.
He walked down the wide, relatively even dirt road. It had been made centuries ago and was repaired every couple decades. This was the same ancestral road that the men walked down three-hundred years ago, things changed slowly in this rural part of the country. He'd scrounged a walking stick from the brush along the path, and he'd felt he had fashioned it well enough to move with.
Carrying on down the road for some time he came around a bend, and then moved up a modestly steep hill. He knew was getting close, he'd be seeing the forest soon enough. Shouldering the three rice sacks full of supplies he'd slung over his shoulder he crested up the hill. Looking out and over he saw the eaves of the great mass of trees. It was a shocking sight as first glance.
"They are all red." Hideo said the words softly, barely above a whisper.
He took in a deep breath, he'd come this far. He stepped forward on the path and down the hill. He'd set himself on the forest, for better or for worse.
---------
The sun hung high in the sky as Hideo reached the eaves of the trees. The red colors of the forest were surreal against the terrain, and it seemed as if the place had been spawned out of a dream. The road grew much less well-maintained as he had drawn closer to the woods.
He crossed the threshold of the place, the first day of many in the forest.
He'd carried on the path for some time. He'd gone on the instant alert when he came into the wood, for it was entirely alien to him. The red trees hung heavily over him, their branches seemed to be weighed by the grief of the place. It was as if the deaths here had scarred the place permanently, and the forest was left as a remainder of the sadness here.
It all was horrifying in many ways. He felt he could hear the screams of the men in the distance, the total lack of sound and wind, and the air seemed to taste of blood. He could feel the tremendous presence of energy in the wood, it seemed to even ebb and affect his own chakra in some ways. It was an indescribable feeling.
But it was also... Serene in a strange way. It was as if he'd come into the presence of a sad old man, a man who'd been left behind following all of his troubles. There was a form of tranquility in that sadness, in the presence of all that horror.
These feelings just made the place more odd and different.
Hideo stopped on the path and listened carefully for something, something specific he sought. He searched for the sound of water.
It was distant, but it was there. Cutting left off of the path he trekked in the direction of it. The man drew one of his kunai knives, and marked the trees as he went - making sure to leave a return path for himself. The sap that bled from the wood even seemed to look like blood in many ways.
Fortunately the water was not terribly far from the road. It was a small river that ran through the trees. The water itself was clear and seemed to be typical of the liquid, but due to the heavy density of the red trees it gave the water an odd, troubling reddish sheen. The water made no noise either, it simply continued it's course into the wood.
Hideo pushed on, following the river for a ways down into the forest. He piled rocks and stones that he found along the way, indicating his route. Soon, he came to an area where the river slowed and eased, and widened a bit. The was a comfortable embankment, and a bed of the crimson leaves. Upon further exploration Hideo even discovered a sizeable hidey-hole stashed beneath the exposed roots of a tree. This would be where he'd make camp.
This is the intro post to the thread. I'll get to training with the next post (providing I'm not butchered in a random encounter), as I'd rather not detract from the actual training with my long-winded stories of terrain and geography.
This thread is open, and if you'd like to join me - then simply PM me, we'll work something out. Folks from Grass are welcome too as the forest connects with their country.
---------
Hideo Kishimoto looked down at the map again, green eyes looked over the lines and symbols on the paper. He nodded his head, confirming indeed that he'd taken the correct route that he intended. The road he walked lead a winding course southwards through the Land of the Waterfall, it's ultimate course led to the Grass country. But at the borderland, lay a place spoken about in hushed tones in both countries: The Red Forest; the Forest of Sorrow. It had been the site of a horrific battle between the two Nations and the forest had been ultimately changed by the experience.
It was to this place that Hideo sought to go.
He'd at first wondered why when the thought first hatched in his mind. The stories spoke of the place as if it were haunted by the ghosts of those dead soldiers, and worse things. Ninja even held the place in a mystical and mysterious regard, much like the rest of the folk in the country. With all of the rumors, he'd dismissed the thought almost as soon as it'd arrived. There was no need for him to go all the way to this strange and fearful place.
The thought returned though, and remained this time. Hideo had rarely been outside of the Village since he was admitted to the Academy all those years ago, and he'd never left his native country. He never really felt a desire to until a few months ago. A wanderlust ignited in the man's heart like one he'd never felt. The Village seemed a very small part of the world now, and he wanted to see some of it.
So Hideo had resolved to go to the Crimson Forest, both as an exercise in adventure and as a statement of his resolve to better himself. He wanted to see this place firsthand, a place where so many men had died.
He folded up his map, and stuffed it back into his belt. He'd started from the village on the wagon of a farmer returning into the countryside. This brought him far enough south that he could continue the rest of the way on-foot. He'd stayed at small inns during the nights of his walks, and he moved quickly and discreetly during the day. Hideo was no fool, and was entirely aware of the potential dangers of the road.
He walked down the wide, relatively even dirt road. It had been made centuries ago and was repaired every couple decades. This was the same ancestral road that the men walked down three-hundred years ago, things changed slowly in this rural part of the country. He'd scrounged a walking stick from the brush along the path, and he'd felt he had fashioned it well enough to move with.
Carrying on down the road for some time he came around a bend, and then moved up a modestly steep hill. He knew was getting close, he'd be seeing the forest soon enough. Shouldering the three rice sacks full of supplies he'd slung over his shoulder he crested up the hill. Looking out and over he saw the eaves of the great mass of trees. It was a shocking sight as first glance.
"They are all red." Hideo said the words softly, barely above a whisper.
He took in a deep breath, he'd come this far. He stepped forward on the path and down the hill. He'd set himself on the forest, for better or for worse.
---------
The sun hung high in the sky as Hideo reached the eaves of the trees. The red colors of the forest were surreal against the terrain, and it seemed as if the place had been spawned out of a dream. The road grew much less well-maintained as he had drawn closer to the woods.
He crossed the threshold of the place, the first day of many in the forest.
He'd carried on the path for some time. He'd gone on the instant alert when he came into the wood, for it was entirely alien to him. The red trees hung heavily over him, their branches seemed to be weighed by the grief of the place. It was as if the deaths here had scarred the place permanently, and the forest was left as a remainder of the sadness here.
It all was horrifying in many ways. He felt he could hear the screams of the men in the distance, the total lack of sound and wind, and the air seemed to taste of blood. He could feel the tremendous presence of energy in the wood, it seemed to even ebb and affect his own chakra in some ways. It was an indescribable feeling.
But it was also... Serene in a strange way. It was as if he'd come into the presence of a sad old man, a man who'd been left behind following all of his troubles. There was a form of tranquility in that sadness, in the presence of all that horror.
These feelings just made the place more odd and different.
Hideo stopped on the path and listened carefully for something, something specific he sought. He searched for the sound of water.
It was distant, but it was there. Cutting left off of the path he trekked in the direction of it. The man drew one of his kunai knives, and marked the trees as he went - making sure to leave a return path for himself. The sap that bled from the wood even seemed to look like blood in many ways.
Fortunately the water was not terribly far from the road. It was a small river that ran through the trees. The water itself was clear and seemed to be typical of the liquid, but due to the heavy density of the red trees it gave the water an odd, troubling reddish sheen. The water made no noise either, it simply continued it's course into the wood.
Hideo pushed on, following the river for a ways down into the forest. He piled rocks and stones that he found along the way, indicating his route. Soon, he came to an area where the river slowed and eased, and widened a bit. The was a comfortable embankment, and a bed of the crimson leaves. Upon further exploration Hideo even discovered a sizeable hidey-hole stashed beneath the exposed roots of a tree. This would be where he'd make camp.
