Sonam was glad that the interaction with Mr.Doragi and Kozue went smoothly, it felt good helping others, even if naive to the machinations of what such a thing held further along the road. Yet that was a thing of legend, something to arrive. ”Thank you, Mr.Doragi. I’ll have to come by with venison for you later.” With that, the traveler was turned to and asked if he needed anything. It was an odd position the man found himself in. [break][break]
”Well, company is never something I balk at. Hmm..” Being put on the spot like that was hard for Sonam. Usually he was giving, but to be asked if he needed anything, well he had never considered it. He had enough food, water, and a sleeping roll. Well, there was one thing, but it bothered him to ask. ”Walk with me for a bit.” Sonam then trailed a bit further along the path, wanting to avoid prying ears as he contemplated. [break][break]
”Well, the roads have become more… hostile as of late, and I have to admit that peaceful talk isn’t always the road to peace. I’m adept enough with my bow, but I assume you’re fairly confident in yourself, Mr.Kozue. Traveling the country's borders isn’t a thing a lone man can do lightly.” He prostrated himself to Kozue in reverence, and in some forgiveness for his request. ”I understand you’re busy, but do you know of any further way for me to defend myself? You see, my staff is my way of fending off wolves, and my bow for hunting.” The question pained Sonam, as much of a pacifist as he was, Sonam almost wished the man’s answer was no. [break][break]
Yet, he had to humbly accept that the road ahead was one rife with danger, and even a few hours of training his body would have at least started his road down… something. ”If not, I do apologize for asking such a thing.” However, in Sonam’s eyes, Kozue did appear to be capable, though how capable Sonam was blindly unaware. Simply assuming that the other had perhaps maps, or capable of using weapons more adeptly than Sonam could. While internally, Sonam had the capability of using chakra, it was merely that he had never been exposed to its use, and was even unaware that it existed beyond the metaphorical.
”Maybe I’ll have to come visit someday, hiking is the rage among youngsters.” A small chuckle, he wasn’t all that old anyway, Sonam was just one of those with an old soul he figured. Otherwise he simply listened to Kozue, figuring the other just wanted business to be taken care of. The world of haste and progress as opposed to the world of methodology and understanding, or something like that. [break][break]
Sonam turned, moving back to the village, but detoured, keeping at a pace so the other could keep up. Granted in the reality of it all, Kozue could probably move faster than Sonam could, but the traveler was unaware of that…”Down this way, a little bit into the wood.” A short way off from the main road was a large structure, affixed to a large stream with a waterwheel behind it. [break][break]
”A beauty really, I think they explained that the running water moves the wheel, causing the large blade in the middle to shift up and down, allowing them to saw through trees in barely any time, with another set of gears pushing the tree forward.” With that, two halves of a tree fell apart from the middle of the structure into the growing pile of lumber. A loud crack echoing. Sonam’s rural (uneducated to the finer things) upbringing was probably drawn into the forefront with that statement. Even a simple machine like that impressed him. [break][break]
”Ah, Mr.Doragi! A pleasure running into you! Are you available for a business proposition?” Sonam smiled, meanwhile Mr.Doragi, a tall, extremely muscled man with a bushy mustachio had his arms folded over, but a soft smile was held within the bushy eyebrows and mustache. [break][break]
”Sonam. Well, that’s good to hear! We’re in a dry spell, and wouldn’t mind some business, even if it’s lighter than usual, especially to help a friend of a friend!” Thus the ball was left in Kozue’s court, Sonam simply there to guide the path.
”Stone country huh? I don’t believe I’ve made it out that way yet. Oh, lumber tends to be a huge export in this little village, rope may be an issue however, I’m not sure of their loom work.” A hand went to his chin in thought, well it would make sense that they would use hemp and other fibers in the local area to make rope, but that was probably exported in shipping crates. Honestly it was more or less how he had seen trade conducted here in his short time, merchants would come with their carts, buy up large supplies of lumber and haul it themselves. Granted, whatever the man was looking to build would require a lot more muscle-work than just one guy. [break][break]
”A building project then? From what I’ve seen there’s plenty of those out there looking for a hard day’s work for food and coin, lotta folks displaced.” While familiar with the warfare in the world at large, Sonam was a refuge of that fact, but untrained in any knowledge of the shinobi aside from that they existed. There was a twinge of hurt in his heart, being reminded of his own family being destroyed as a byproduct of this bitter world.[break][break]
The resentment in Kozue’s words reached Sonam’s heart, he could understand at least the basis of hurt. Though just meeting could prod those feelings too far, and Sonam didn’t want that. ”Of course friend, the common man is oft forgotten about, and I have a ways to go before I can begin to be an ointment to those wounds the faceless man sees everyday. It’s not a sin to be aware of suffering, but it is one to stand aside while we can ease that suffering. One could say that’s the purpose of my journey, as unlearned as I may be.” You see, Sonam had no experience with chakra, healing arts, or anything related to jutsu really, but he had the spirit that would perhaps one day fester into something greater. [break][break]
”Ah, I do apologise for rambling. Perhaps I could introduce you to the man who runs the lumberyard here for your project. I don’t mind turning around as they have a wonderful blend of tea in this town.” He smiled once more, genuine in his desire to help, however he could. The man from the country of stone may even lead Sonam on an interesting path, or be part of a larger one. He waited for Kozue, if the may accepted his offer, for the two to enter into the village and give a tour.
Not shortly after his journey began, Sonam’s keen eyes caught a figure in the distance. The other seemed amicable enough, Sonam’s long history trading with others also allowed for his eyes to surmise body language easily enough. The traveler simply continued forth, a smile and a wave at the other’s approach, a customary greeting. He was prepared to bid hello, but the other spoke first as they neared each other. From here? Here, relatively speaking he supposed so, honestly the man wasn’t aware where his true nationality hailed from, so yes, he supposed he was from “here.” ”From the village? No, I’m afraid not. Though I have gotten acquainted with the locals in a way. My home is the open road you see.” [break][break]
He cut off shortly afterwards, assuming the man wasn’t a direct practitioner, or cared for, philosophy. Those eyes the other had spoke of ambition, purpose. Granted, many could have great ambition for lunch, so Sonam digressed. ”Though, I am available to answer any questions you may have, I’m in no hurry you see.” It was true, despite being a vagabond, on the road constantly, he was never in any hurry to get anywhere in particular. Who knew? Maybe this man with ambitious eyes held a strong story of their own. [break][break]
Being a traveler meant Sonam had a degree of connections, albeit no wealth to his name, yet it wasn’t about what you knew in a way, but rather who you knew. In his time traveling the man had met well enough people with their own stories, tales, and gifts. He wasn’t like other vagabonds, chased out for begging, or for being useless. He was met with distrust often enough when entering a village, yet when he left, it was typically on good tidings. Meanwhile the other appeared as though he had traveled some ways to arrive here. He had questions of his own, but figured it impolite to weigh them so quickly. ”Sonam Gyatso, by the by-” A smile. ”Humbly at your, and this world’s service.”[break][break]
The other’s responses warmed his heart. He was glad he did not offend, so unaccustomed to the rules and dictions of other countries, and their seats of hospitality. He was a simple man, raised in the rural aspects of hospitality, greeting a neighbor as if they were family, and to Sonam, the entire world was his neighborhood. ”Greens and whites hmm? A lady with as refined tastes as her appearance.” He smiled modestly, while not one bound to earthly shackles as most, he could still appreciate another’s physical makeup. [break][break]
The man returned to his seated position, grateful of the other who seemed just as excited and eager to be having a discussion with non-hostile company. It was welcomed after his travels across the land, the man unsure of how far he actually ventured. A seamstress? A respectable pastime, but the man was sure there was more than met the eye in this circumstance, yet he wasn’t one to pry beyond the boundaries of what was allotted to him. ”Seamstress? Family trade, passion, hobby? All of the above?” In the deepest of emotions, mingled with old and painful memories, Sonam longed for stability, but that was a closed door on his future. [break][break]
Taking another sip of his tea, the steady heat from the flame blended with the warmth the tea brought him internally was refreshing, and calming.The man mused internally, he didn’t necessarily decree himself an occupation other than vagabond. Making income from being self sufficient, small trades here and there for preserved goods and otherwise. ”My thanks, I could use stitching on my sandals, and perhaps a weatherproofing of my belongings. A small detour would be welcomed.” Granted, he wasn’t on a schedule in the slightest, and might even enjoy lodging in the area for some time.[break][break]
The man nodded and kept eye contact with the other, yet not in a way to be overbearing, moreso in a sense of respect. He did notice the glances to his bow, his keen eyes hungered for detail in their environment, and a lifetime of trading opened one’s visuals to how others behaved subtly. ”Me? Well, I’m simply a traveler. All of my worldly possession strung to my back, with a few enough tools to deter those who have fallen on unfortunate times. Granted, I am naive to the true struggles that seem to rise and fall behind a hidden world that are discussed in hushed tones of the villages I’ve seen. Yet there was much beauty to be appreciated even when others struggle- He made a note to smile when he mentioned beauty being appreciated. ”It isn’t a sin to accept that struggles exist, yet it is when we have the power to change that struggle. One could say my travels are a pursuit to alleviate, not end, the pains we endure.” [break][break]
The man realized he was caught on a tangent, and a philosophy lesson wasn’t always welcomed, especially to strangers whom he had just met. ”My birth name is Sonam Gyatso, by the by. I suppose a trading of names is customary, especially when one is enjoying company and tea with another. Your’s? If I may be so bold to ask, honorary Seamstress?” While to others, and even if other people, seemed to be flirtatious or bold with how they spoke, Sonam was purely based in his speech. The words came soft, slightly bassy enough to carry above the sounds of the crackling flame, but ever so gently.
That unnerving sense that someone, something, was watching is an aspect only amplified but such a dense forest. Yet… It was a natural experience of the realm he found himself in, and remained nonplussed. Instinct, in the very foundation of humanity, is a lie told by a fearful body. So the rural traveler remained seated, the water in his pot entering a stage of perfect warmth, quickly poured in a small ceramic cup unadorned with fancy symbology, it was just a cup. Meanwhile another appeared, a woman smiling, asking to join him. [break][break]
Sonam took a small sip of the tea, making sure the flavor was adequate enough to offer. Her own smile directed towards Sonam was met by a smile of his own. Come, come. I’ve just finished brewing a tea you’re more than welcome to.” The man's voice was calm, welcoming, not a voice of confident to hold something untoward within, just welcoming. He smiled, his naivety of the lands was almost brought to the surface, unaware of the proximity of war, spies, and death (relatively speaking). He placed the cup on a small, smooth rock, quickly assured it was balanced as he went to work. [break][break]
The traveler dug for another cup in his bag (one would never know when the did have quests), perfectly placed at a height making it so he didn’t have to stand before going to work, filling it as the swirling opaque tanned color steamed from the mouth of the vessel. ”Unfortunately I didn’t bring milk or sugar, a guest was unexpected, and you’ve caught me at a disadvantage. Though I do have some local blackberries if some sweetness would help.” The lack of comforting additives was merely a part of his lifestyle, preferring a natural brew, supplementing the fact his home on was worn on his back. A pouch could only hold so much. [break][break]
The man placed the teapot on the ground next to his own cup of warming liquid to prevent it from boiling, not wanting to douse the fire. Standing, a slightly above average man in height, an even six foot, and a body simply muscled from constant movement, a well diet, and sleeping on the hard ground made him unassuming, simple, average.[break][break]
”The taste should be herbal, earthy at first, followed by a rich sweetness of the berries behind, finishing with a closing of spice.” In another life, perhaps he would have had a chance at being a sommelier. [break][break]
The other’s guise was well done, his enhanced eyesight merely catching some oddities about it, but his intrigue was suppressed, the thoughts of the time of evening it was, how lightly she traveled, or appeared to, struck to him that the woman was likely a local. The man however simply smiled and offered the cup of hot tea to the other. The ceramic vessel transferred heat to his hand, yet it wasn’t scalding, almost perfectly warmed to the touch. ”So, who has the spirits of the woods guided before my humble path on this day?”[break][break]
The brightness of the fire seemed to cascade his face in a harmony of shadow on one side, to every detail of his body being exposed on another, soft baby blue eyes that were, long black hair that seemed to spike and fall in a multitude of directions. Sonam's family hunting bow, sun bleached and old, lying on the forest floor next to his travelling ensemble, a quiver of arrows with very basic fletching propped next to his pack atop his walking staff.
The other seemed honest and forthright, a quality that was admirable. Sonam liked the other quickly. ”Lightning to strike you hm?” The thought made Sonam chuckle, he was sure there was some age old tale of a legendary warrior doing the same, out of stubbornness likely. ”Well perhaps one day you’ll gain the confidence to do it? I’m sure that with enough determination anything is possible, to let the power of the Raijin flow through you, and harness it!” Encouragement? Primarily. A joke secondly. Sonam was sure that such an ability was possible, perhaps even common in the shinobi world, but in the life of a rural farmer turned traveler, it was much rarer. As rare as riding lightning one could say.
Shinobi? Well he could see the potential and courage in the other, so it didn’t come off as too much a shock to learn what the other was. ”Honestly, someone wielding lightning as a tool would be impressive to see!” And who was he? Who was Sonam? ”Oh me? A simple traveler, no one of any renown or power as you must be. Sonam is my birth name, and your’s friend?”
His curiosity was piqued honestly. He had heard of chakra being used to manipulate the elements, though it seemed to be an aspect unique to individuals of certain lines, granted he wasn’t quite sure. Whispers in bars and ramen shops were rarely as reliable as people wanted to believe, and shinobi were, to state simply, a military force that probably excelled in the air of mystery, yet who knows. Maybe this man would be an avenue of Sonam learning more of the world beneath the world. ”So my friend, is lightning your only desire, or can you harness other aspects of the world as well? I haven’t had a chance to trade stories with a shinobi yet, and would love to, a demonstration would be welcomed as well! Humbly, you have me at a disadvantage of knowledge.” The words were calm, welcoming, and the way Sonam carried himself was genuine.
The thick canopies stunk of nostalgia. The way pine sap clings to the air, the rustle of fowl and other game living in harmony in the safety of shadows cast by the lords of the forest. Of all places, this is where spirits dwelled the most, the traveler figured. To Sonam, the forest was a place that described nature and her beliefs so perfectly. The circle of life was kept in balance so sweetly here, from the grass that fed the gentlefolk of the woods, the deer, and rabbits. To the predators that ate those beings, the sly snake, to the predatory wolf, and from there the even larger predators such as bears. Finally was the reclamation, as beings deceased they were fed upon, and gave life to fungi which nourished the soil. This was the primal element of man, before he hungered and ate away at that peace. [break][break] The traveler was simply garbed, a loose red shirt with no sleeves that hung past his waist, simple white pants that ended in socks and lightly padded sandals. His “home” of belongings sat soundly on his shoulders as he navigated the forest with relative ease. His senses were aware, as he moved through the brush. Gently and passing peacefully through the foliage so as to not disturb those who made their homes here. His fingers picked at berries as he walked, a small pouch becoming their new home. His bow was slack on his shoulder, ready to slide down and be used as a moment’s notice. While respectful of the life that resided here, awareness that he was an outsider to the spirits kept him on alert. [break][break] On finding a small clearing, where the sun pierced through the foliage, soft green blades in a circle seemed to make a good resting spot. Not necessarily shrouded, but the golden waves felt relaxing amidst the lords of the forest. He sat cross legged and placed his pack next to him, a small roll of kindingly, striking stones and jagged stones that built next to each other soundly so as to not cause a leap of flame to scorch the surrounding area. Strike, strike, strike. Woosh A small crackling flame of vibrant yellows and oranges danced in the circle pit, a tool of metal was sprung open and sat soundly over the flame. An ornate, small teapot, followed by a blend of herbs, spice, and dried fruit was placed into the slowly bubbling water as the man relaxed. Taking in the surroundings. He grabbed a cup that matched the teapot, followed by another. Along with the pouch of ripe blackberries in case a friend, either human or animal arrived. His bow was placed to his side for easy access if necessary, and the man placed his pouch atop his walking staff. [break][break] The small campsite was serene, the soft crackling of flame, and the subtle scent of tea mingled gently in the midst of it all. Today would be good, as life was good.
[attr="class","text-space icon"] Shoes slung over his right shoulder as the rains pelted him, a simple white cloak treated in oils to prevent any illness from rain covered the wanderer and his meager belongings. He has come far in his recent journeys, and has seen much. However; the mystery of the shinobi and their ability to bend and weave the elements to their control fascinated the man. He wasn’t trained in shinobi arts, nor did he see it becoming easy to achieve, due to their secretive nature. It was perplexing to be born “average” in the simplest sense. In a world with what one could call magic, he was born without an avenue to achieving such a power. Or at least, that’s what the present told him.
The thick marsh buried him to ankle level, which was somewhat reassuring as white and blue bolts swirled overhead, the thunderous cracks were almost as defining as the downpour that surrounded him, that soaked into his aching joints. Yet in this distance his eyes caught something as a solid road (well submerged road) greeted his feet. Was that… a man? Standing on a metal pole in this small town? Even a simpleton such as Sonam understood that height, and especially metal drew forth lightning. Sonam went into a run, curiosity peaked, but also that sense of help. Allowed his body to react as it weathered the storm.
Then he noticed the man, a redhead, fall back as he exclaimed something. Sonam lept onto a few crates piled next to the building and climbed up. His voice fluctuated to carry more bass, in hopes of piercing through the onslaught. ”Are you alright?” A smile as the cold rain seemed to assault him even more. ”An old saying states that, ‘What is Bravery, without a dash of recklessness?’ And from what I can tell, you’re the bravest I’ve met in some time, challenging nature herself!” His smile grew wide as curiosity peaked. He extended a hand for a shake.
”What were you doing up there, if I may ask?” A simple enough question, and from the man’s strong build, Sonam figured that he was at least trained in some sort of fighting arts. Could this man perhaps be a shinobi warrior? Fate had an odd way of curving her roads and paths for others to meet in the most… interesting circumstances.
The vast expanse of rolling green that stretches further than the eye can see, underneath a bright sun is a common sight, a common beginning to any tale. Albeit, a bit too average. Yet today there were no meteors, dragons, or an apocalyptic event happening. It was just another day. The rains from yesterday made the air heavy, humidity clinging to every part of the man uncomfortably. A loosely cobbled road beneath him as light blue eyes gazed into that incandescent landscape, the smells of fresh dew, petrichor, he believed it was called, mingled with the scent of mud and fresh air.[break][break]
His feet ached, his back sore, and the buzzing of insects seemed to drown out every thought. To suffer is to be alive, because without suffering, the simplicity of what makes life so beautiful would be lost. The harmony of the world, the beauty of every blade of glass that swayed, to the bright gold of a honey bee buzzing brought it all into perspective. Life was good, complete, and unbiased to each one of her creations.[break][break]
Sandaled feet took their first step from the small town, a fresh restock of supplies, from jerky, dried fruits, soap, and a sewing kit to patch any worn parts of his bed roll. A gentle breeze stirred, cooling the beads of sweat that clung to his skin like a bee clung onto a flower. The harsh road's loose stones dug into his lightly padded feet every other step, yet it was alright. Roads were safe, they meant people and security, straying from the path could mean danger, especially in these harsh times.[break][break]
The small town did bring him joy however; in these turbulent times, life would find a way. People would continue to eat, drink, sleep, and work. The only difference between a vagabond, a man with no name such as he, and the mightiest of Emperors or Warriors was simply what they ate, and where they laid their head at night.[break][break]
A vagabond like him however could have many stories for the common man, who will always exist even when legends fall. For that is how folktales are spread is it not? Legends are in dull classroom lectures, yet folktales are what we tell our children that will be passed with enthusiasm from generation to generation. It is good to be common.[break][break]
The lone man held to his walking staff, his back straight and postured as the muscles tensed to provide support. His bow was casually placed over his chest, the old sun bleached wood bounced off of his hip with each step, a quiver looped aroused his waist hanging from his backside, and his pack with a bedroll secured atop of it held the ensemble together nicely. The man looked simple, average, but his eyes were old, wrinkled and focused. The man's skin was tanned and becoming deeper still from his time beneath the golden rays of the sun. His mouth moved gently, a piece of jerky and a couple raisins keeping it occupied as he thought.[break][break]
What would befall him today? A simple day of travel as he moved through lands that smelled and looked familiar? An exciting detour that would shift his path to that of somewhere unfamiliar, alien and potentially hostile? Another traveler, curious, kind, or brutal and bloodthirsty? Who's to say aside from what the fates lay out, from life herself. This is the beginning of a story, the start of a journey with a destination shrouded by the future.
Simple. A simple first breath, a simple life. Bright yellow fields in the morning sun, haunting green trees at night. The smell of a rolling stew with hunks of deer, rabbit, carrots and leeks, and steaming rice on the side. Strong, simple. Trained to hunt game, to gather rice, chop wood for a flame. Remote, distant, peaceful. As life should be. A young boy becomes a teen, muscled from a good diet. A teen becomes a man, learned, honorable, and religious. A respect for life and it's simplistic natural cycle. Away from the warring, lying world of Shinobi and all the misfortune and pain they bring. Happiness in seclusion. A father, a mother, two sisters and a baby brother. The eldest learns of responsibility and tact. Trading coins with others for goods your family does not have. Reading the body language of those traders to make sure you aren't getting a bad deal, and being humble and accepting those bad deals if the trader has bodyguards at their sides. Pacifism isn't stupidity, pacifism is letting karma wash it's waves over you, because you do not and cannot know the story behind every foul temper and angry motive. Evil exists while you live simply in the life of good.
Flames, turmoil. Good deeds can be punished by cosmic forces, evil can crumble the walls of peace you build in your naivety. A wrong place, wrong words, a wrong time. The family is lost, burnt to a crisp. You were absent and somehow fortunate. Grief washes over you, and you almost drown in those torrents. Why did it happen? There wasn't much money, and the food was burnt along with your family. Evil exists and anger swells within your soul. They'll pay, but you are not their executioner, what can one man do? A man with no training in the ninja arts, a man with barely enough money to feed and clothe himself, let alone hire a squad of Shinobi to exact revenge. Bells clack together their gentle chime reminding you, bringing you back to reality from your suffering, that life is a cycle and perhaps misfortune can lead to peace and freedom in other ways. So you gather your things, a simple hunting bow and simple arrows, stashed away in a fallen tree, ready for the hunt. Your walking staff and a small bag of provisions you always kept by your side in the midst of a long journey. The pelts your father tanned left you enough coin to not become a beggar, being a burden to others is antithesis to your life which suffering is part of. That's where we'll be going, on a trek across this alien land torn apart by war and grief that you have now felt. Life before death, strength before weakness,journey before destination. A smile, a closing of the past, and a journey towards enlightenment.
Proficiencies
Kyujutsu [Apprentice] Born to a rural life, one of the most important skills you develop is how to provide. Provide for yourself, your family, and respect the land. Sonam's skill with the bow is simple, not like that of a skilled warrior. In hunting you lead a target, you strike once and that arrow let loose should be the only one, to not disturb your prey. The concept of rapid reload is lost on Sonam, and he's more adapt with a simple hunting bow, not one that requires high strength or stamina like a war bow. He's trained to hit a six inch mark (heart or lungs) from twenty yards away at most. Accuracy is gained the closer a target is, but is lost at a four yard range. A single shot loose at full draw is roughly one hundred and eighty feet per second, reaching the twenty yard range in a third of a second.
Bojutsu [Rookie] A traveler's simple tool for fending off stray animals, showing a presence to attackers, and otherwise navigation is the tried and true walking staff. Sonam's use of this tool is primarily for support, but he has developed a method for quick offense with three rapid blows to mainly disorient an attacker, not to seriously maim or kill. Of course this skill isn't seriously trained to Parry or any advanced maneuvers, this is simply the basics.
Visual Enhancement Born with an already keen eye, Sonam's eyesight is that of a hawk's by being trained to hunt game, or to see what others may miss in daily activities such as gathering crops. Sonam's vision is able to see changes in coloration and movement in foliage, dense wheat fields, and lordly forests. This visual acuity has been a great tool in seeing bandits before they approach and simply retreating from the incoming danger, to sniping a rabbit in a dense field for lunch, and otherwise see what's coming at Sonam for survivability. His visual enhancement is a boon in discerning body language and tone of others, their ticks and movements to either leave, or disarm a hostile situation.
