City of Chungsu (001)

Gutsy

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Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation


“What a unique individual,” Arthur thought to himself, the smoke from his pipe curling up to meet the bruised afternoon sky. He’d been watching the young man since the stranger’s arrival. The air here was thick with the scent of ash and a lingering fear. His attire alone was a call for attention. At first, Arthur remained sat on his porch, a fixture of the old wood, rocking lazily on his chair. He puffed on his pipe, drawing in the dry, familiar comfort of tobacco, his gaze fixed on the young man. Clearly, this young man had a bone to pick with the Divine.

But then again, Arthur mused, you couldn't trust anyone in these times. Trust was a luxury only the dead could afford. Every strange face, every misplaced word, every shadow could be a signpost to betrayal. The whispers about Mara and her Order had grown louder in recent weeks, spreading through the remote towns like a slow burning fire of rebellion.

Arthur's heart beat strong like a drum. What if this was one of the demons in disguise, a piece of deliberate, attractive bait, meant to draw Mara or one of her lieutenants out of their careful hiding? A careless word now could unravel years of meticulous silence and sacrifice. He settled the pipe between his teeth, the wood warm against his lips. Instead of giving anything away, he’d test the young man. He let the chair rock to a stop with a gentle thud and slowly lowered his gaze to the young man who was now standing by the old well.

"What's a young lad like you got to do with those divine creatures?" Arthur’s voice emerged with a tone of a tired old man who’d seen too much. He didn't raise the pitch, didn't let the question hang with accusation. "Don't wanna go throwing your life away now do you, boy?" He spoke easily, a soft warning masked as a gentle observation.


Giyu walked to the well in the small village, his feet touching every puddle on the way. He stepped up and leaned over, looking down at the cold, dark water far below. He picked a small pebble from the well’s wall and let it fall, listening until it hit the surface with a faint sound. As his thoughts wandered, he heard a voice. Old, cautious, and weathered by time.

Giyu turned to look at the man. Old, grey-haired, hunched from the years. “What I got to do with the divine? Nothing really,” Giyu said quietly. “Except for the fact that they’re just as terrible as the demons that roam this world.”

He stepped closer to the porch but stopped before reaching it, bowing his head slightly. The divine are just as much at fault for the destruction in this world. They let demons roam free, they ignore the prayers of the dying. That’s why I took up the sword myself. Yet even now, all I’ve found are demons... and never a trace of the divine. No one to answer for what’s been done.”

Giyu looked the old man up and down, his expression calm, his voice steady. "My Name is Tomioka Giyu," he said. "And what about you old man? What is it that interests you so much about me?"
 

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Giyu walked to the well in the small village, his feet touching every puddle on the way. He stepped up and leaned over, looking down at the cold, dark water far below. He picked a small pebble from the well’s wall and let it fall, listening until it hit the surface with a faint sound. As his thoughts wandered, he heard a voice. Old, cautious, and weathered by time.

Giyu turned to look at the man. Old, grey-haired, hunched from the years. “What I got to do with the divine? Nothing really,” Giyu said quietly. “Except for the fact that they’re just as terrible as the demons that roam this world.”

He stepped closer to the porch but stopped before reaching it, bowing his head slightly. The divine are just as much at fault for the destruction in this world. They let demons roam free, they ignore the prayers of the dying. That’s why I took up the sword myself. Yet even now, all I’ve found are demons... and never a trace of the divine. No one to answer for what’s been done.”

Giyu looked the old man up and down, his expression calm, his voice steady. "My Name is Tomioka Giyu," he said. "And what about you old man? What is it that interests you so much about me?"
Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

The old man, Arthur, watched Giyu with a practiced stillness, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He paused, a momentary catch in his breath, before speaking.

“Tomioka Giyu,” he repeated slowly, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor in his voice. “A strong name for a man with such a burning heart.” He shifted on the porch, his gaze not breaking contact. “To do nothing is not the same as to be malicious, young man. A cold sun does not inherently make the sky evil.”

He leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on his knees. “And prayer... perhaps it’s a language we invented for them, one the gods haven’t learned. Why should we assume they can hear a human whisper?” Arthur pointed a gnarled finger toward the forest edge. “As for the demons, who draws the line between them and us? Humans carve their own path of ruin, don't they? Tell me, why are you so certain the demons are the sole source of this world's evil?”

 

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Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

The old man, Arthur, watched Giyu with a practiced stillness, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He paused, a momentary catch in his breath, before speaking.

“Tomioka Giyu,” he repeated slowly, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor in his voice. “A strong name for a man with such a burning heart.” He shifted on the porch, his gaze not breaking contact. “To do nothing is not the same as to be malicious, young man. A cold sun does not inherently make the sky evil.”

He leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on his knees. “And prayer... perhaps it’s a language we invented for them, one the gods haven’t learned. Why should we assume they can hear a human whisper?” Arthur pointed a gnarled finger toward the forest edge. “As for the demons, who draws the line between them and us? Humans carve their own path of ruin, don't they? Tell me, why are you so certain the demons are the sole source of this world's evil?”


Giyu stood in the street one foot in a puddle, as his eyes were fixed on the rain drops hitting the ground, setting out patterns of ripples through the puddles. The old man’s words lingered in his mind, and for a long time, the only sound between the two men was the creaking floorboards beneath the old man’s feet and the steady fall of raindrops.

“Maybe you are right,” Giyu finally said aloud, his voice was low and seemed to be ring with some form of sadness. “Maybe the gods never learned the language of prayer. But they made this world, and now they are letting it rot like this. If that is the case, their silence is just as bad as their cruelty.”

Giyu’s gaze turned upward, looking up at the dull grey sky, feeling the raindrops gently hit his face. “Evil does not simply exist in this world. The only things that can create in this world is the divine, whatever demons are they twist what was already made… which means, it is the divine who made demons in the first place. They birthed the monsters we fight every day, and the suffering that feeds them. You can’t tell me that the divine is not the only reason demons exist, they may as well have created them to force us to look to them.”

Giyu turned back to Arthur, his tone was now steady. “I have seen too many die, too many people who prayed or looked to the divine, but never received an answer. Too many children calling for help but never received it. If that is what the divine is, then I’d rather live without it.”

Giyu let his hand rest on the hilt of his blade, not in threat, but as if it were a habit of his, a way to comfort him more than relying on faith or others. “Demons take life. The divine gave them the right to do so.” He exhaled as he looked at Arthur.
“I would rather see a world where people are the miracles… someday somebody will pray for a miracle, pray for something to save them to whatever are nearby, and that prayer will be answered because you will show up, that is what it means to be a champion an protector of people.”
 

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Giyu stood in the street one foot in a puddle, as his eyes were fixed on the rain drops hitting the ground, setting out patterns of ripples through the puddles. The old man’s words lingered in his mind, and for a long time, the only sound between the two men was the creaking floorboards beneath the old man’s feet and the steady fall of raindrops.

“Maybe you are right,” Giyu finally said aloud, his voice was low and seemed to be ring with some form of sadness. “Maybe the gods never learned the language of prayer. But they made this world, and now they are letting it rot like this. If that is the case, their silence is just as bad as their cruelty.”

Giyu’s gaze turned upward, looking up at the dull grey sky, feeling the raindrops gently hit his face. “Evil does not simply exist in this world. The only things that can create in this world is the divine, whatever demons are they twist what was already made… which means, it is the divine who made demons in the first place. They birthed the monsters we fight every day, and the suffering that feeds them. You can’t tell me that the divine is not the only reason demons exist, they may as well have created them to force us to look to them.”

Giyu turned back to Arthur, his tone was now steady. “I have seen too many die, too many people who prayed or looked to the divine, but never received an answer. Too many children calling for help but never received it. If that is what the divine is, then I’d rather live without it.”

Giyu let his hand rest on the hilt of his blade, not in threat, but as if it were a habit of his, a way to comfort him more than relying on faith or others. “Demons take life. The divine gave them the right to do so.” He exhaled as he looked at Arthur.
“I would rather see a world where people are the miracles… someday somebody will pray for a miracle, pray for something to save them to whatever are nearby, and that prayer will be answered because you will show up, that is what it means to be a champion an protector of people.”
Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

The silence after Giyu's words just hung there, thick like the rain. Arthur pushed up slowly from the porch, the wet wood cold on his fingers, and just looked at the younger man.

“If gods made the bad things, then who's really to blame?” Arthur asked, his voice rough over the drumming rain. "If a boy turned into a villain, should his mother still have to hurt?"

Giyu kept talking about prayers and miracles, but the only answer he’d ever gotten was the ring of his sword. They kept bleeding, fighting, and dying, and the gods, by Giyu’s own telling, stayed quiet. So Arthur had to ask him, "Why do you keep looking for the answers from the divine? Why do you seek to blame only them? Why do you think gods should solve the mess that humanity caused in the first place?"

It seemed the boy was too narrow minded, too filled with hate to see the bigger picture.


 

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Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

The silence after Giyu's words just hung there, thick like the rain. Arthur pushed up slowly from the porch, the wet wood cold on his fingers, and just looked at the younger man.

“If gods made the bad things, then who's really to blame?” Arthur asked, his voice rough over the drumming rain. "If a boy turned into a villain, should his mother still have to hurt?"

Giyu kept talking about prayers and miracles, but the only answer he’d ever gotten was the ring of his sword. They kept bleeding, fighting, and dying, and the gods, by Giyu’s own telling, stayed quiet. So Arthur had to ask him, "Why do you keep looking for the answers from the divine? Why do you seek to blame only them? Why do you think gods should solve the mess that humanity caused in the first place?"

It seemed the boy was too narrow minded, too filled with hate to see the bigger picture.


Giyu’s eyes lingered on the ground, his eyes darting around as if he was counting every drop, watching the ripples fade in the puddles. For a long while, he said nothing, he just stood there unmoving.The sound of Arthur’s words crawled through his mind, into stories, into places that he had locked away many years ago.

When Giyu finally spoke, his voice was softer, almost a whisper as the words came out. “You think I haven’t asked myself that?” His eyes lifted, faintly glazed over in the light. “Every night, I ask who’s to blame. The demons. The Gods? Or myself.”

Giyu stepped closer to the porch, the puddles swallowing his reflection as he did. “When my sister died, she was smiling. She told me to run. I did. I ran, and she didn’t. And after that… every time I close my eyes, I see her face… I see her sacrifice for me to live.” Giyu’s jaw tightened, with his next breath barely revealing a slight quiver. “She sacrificed herself so that I could live… but did she really have to? Why did I run? Why didn’t I stop and fight off whatever had come to take our lives…. The real cruelty in all his is that they took her from me, they took my family from me… and yet no one came to save me.” Giyu’s eyes looked at Arthur. “So tell me, when I say the gods are cruel, do you think I’m talking about faith, or about the guilt within me?”

The rain came down a bit harder now, streaking his face, masking what might have been a single tear. “You said a mother shouldnt’t have to hurt for what her son became, but what about a boy who still hurts for what he couldn’t save?”

Giyu’s hand dropped from the hilt of his sword. “I don’t blame the divine simply because I hate them, I blame them because if I stop, I have to start forgiving myself for being a coward.”
 

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Giyu’s eyes lingered on the ground, his eyes darting around as if he was counting every drop, watching the ripples fade in the puddles. For a long while, he said nothing, he just stood there unmoving.The sound of Arthur’s words crawled through his mind, into stories, into places that he had locked away many years ago.

When Giyu finally spoke, his voice was softer, almost a whisper as the words came out. “You think I haven’t asked myself that?” His eyes lifted, faintly glazed over in the light. “Every night, I ask who’s to blame. The demons. The Gods? Or myself.”

Giyu stepped closer to the porch, the puddles swallowing his reflection as he did. “When my sister died, she was smiling. She told me to run. I did. I ran, and she didn’t. And after that… every time I close my eyes, I see her face… I see her sacrifice for me to live.” Giyu’s jaw tightened, with his next breath barely revealing a slight quiver. “She sacrificed herself so that I could live… but did she really have to? Why did I run? Why didn’t I stop and fight off whatever had come to take our lives…. The real cruelty in all his is that they took her from me, they took my family from me… and yet no one came to save me.” Giyu’s eyes looked at Arthur. “So tell me, when I say the gods are cruel, do you think I’m talking about faith, or about the guilt within me?”

The rain came down a bit harder now, streaking his face, masking what might have been a single tear. “You said a mother shouldnt’t have to hurt for what her son became, but what about a boy who still hurts for what he couldn’t save?”

Giyu’s hand dropped from the hilt of his sword. “I don’t blame the divine simply because I hate them, I blame them because if I stop, I have to start forgiving myself for being a coward.”
Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

Arthur listened. He let the emotions of one so young pour out like a floor carrying so much pain and regret. He seemed to see something within the boy that could benefit the cause. Then again, would it just be another throwing their life away? This war was not a joke. Though, it was a tiny star in the sky that could give hope in the darkest nights.

He placed his hand gently on the back of Giyu. "It's okay lad. I will all be okay. Though, before you can move forwards, you need to be sure you're okay with what is behind you lest it consume you." He let his words linger in the air. "Loss is a natural part of life. Guilt is... pain... suffering... but it's about how we carry ourselves while holding all this so close."

"If you seek to better yourself, you need to come to terms with your pain... your suffering... your regret. When you can truly do this, head to the land of water. Even if you don't know it now, you will find what you seek there."

With that, Arthur stood up right, took another puff of his pipe before retiring inside. To the young man it would seem as he was just heading home. Instead, he was sending a message to the Order.



OOC:

Your task is as follows to join the order:

Complete 3 missions B rank or above. Each mission needs to relate to overcoming pain, regret and past mistakes. This can be done by confronting an enemy or in a reflective way. Any way you decide is acceptable. Once you've completed these missions. Head to the land of water. Once you've done that, inform me to progress.

 

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Giyu left the village behind with the words of Arthur resonating within his mind as he began a journey of reflection.

- Leaving Landmark

Travel Itinerary: #001 -> #025 -> #027 -> #029
Departing #001 Ruins of Chungsu at 2:00pm (28/10/25)
#001: 2:00pm - 3:00pm
#025: 3:00pm - 4:00pm
#027: 4:00pm - 5:00pm
Arriving at #029 Eastwatch at 5:00pm (28/10/25)
 

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Arriving from Shinramoto (012)

Nanashi payed little attention to the crumbling structures as he walked down a desolate street. He had arrived and honestly, didn't understand the appeal this place must of had. Sure he was walking through history, but he just couldn't find himself able to care. Sure it was sad and all that but, just like his own memories, these events hadn't effected him at all.

He stopped a few times to survey the area for any threats, he wasn't being paranoid as he knew someone had been trying to trail him all the way from Toksong. He felt like he had managed to lose them while traveling through Shinramoto, but he couldn't be too careful.

Leaping up one of the broken pillars, he perched low, scouting out his surrounds, before he could see traces of a small make shift civilization. Hmmm maybe there would be something worth asking them about, maybe how to use the rift or something. Expertly getting down he walked up the slight hill until the small town on the outskirts was basically just within reach. Some houses littered the outer areas with some curious individuals, and Nanashi would halt and look about, trying to gauge who he should talk too.
 

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Arriving from Shinramoto (012)

Nanashi payed little attention to the crumbling structures as he walked down a desolate street. He had arrived and honestly, didn't understand the appeal this place must of had. Sure he was walking through history, but he just couldn't find himself able to care. Sure it was sad and all that but, just like his own memories, these events hadn't effected him at all.

He stopped a few times to survey the area for any threats, he wasn't being paranoid as he knew someone had been trying to trail him all the way from Toksong. He felt like he had managed to lose them while traveling through Shinramoto, but he couldn't be too careful.

Leaping up one of the broken pillars, he perched low, scouting out his surrounds, before he could see traces of a small make shift civilization. Hmmm maybe there would be something worth asking them about, maybe how to use the rift or something. Expertly getting down he walked up the slight hill until the small town on the outskirts was basically just within reach. Some houses littered the outer areas with some curious individuals, and Nanashi would halt and look about, trying to gauge who he should talk too.
Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

What a lively time of year it seemed to be. As the dark winters drew near, so did the various strangers. Though it was strange. They hadn't sought to enter that hell that stood atop the hill. Instead they seemed to hunt for something more.

A young man seemed on edge, hunted by something. He seemed almost lost, his mind scattered. Arthur on his way home called out to the boy, "Are you alright their laddy? You seem a bit lost?". He was friendly enough, though always cautious.


 

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Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

What a lively time of year it seemed to be. As the dark winters drew near, so did the various strangers. Though it was strange. They hadn't sought to enter that hell that stood atop the hill. Instead they seemed to hunt for something more.

A young man seemed on edge, hunted by something. He seemed almost lost, his mind scattered. Arthur on his way home called out to the boy, "Are you alright their laddy? You seem a bit lost?". He was friendly enough, though always cautious.



Nanashi froze slightly as the sudden voice. Turning slightly he looked over to an older man calling out to him.

"Ah, lost in a different way i suppose. But I'm actually here to find out information about the rift thats somewhere here. Rumors spoke about it being a way to get stronger or something like that."

He turned and walked slowly toward the mam, being cautious himself as he approached.
 

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Nanashi froze slightly as the sudden voice. Turning slightly he looked over to an older man calling out to him.

"Ah, lost in a different way i suppose. But I'm actually here to find out information about the rift thats somewhere here. Rumors spoke about it being a way to get stronger or something like that."

He turned and walked slowly toward the mam, being cautious himself as he approached.
Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

Ah, so his hunch was wrong. It would seem this man sought to challenge himself like the rest. Though, it was strange, he was here alone. Did he have any idea what he was looking to face? Arthur pondered for a moment. He couldn't just let a life be wasted if that was the case.

He looked the young man up and down noting the state of his clothes. How long had been on the road? "How about a hot meal lad? Follow me if you're interested?"

 

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Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

Ah, so his hunch was wrong. It would seem this man sought to challenge himself like the rest. Though, it was strange, he was here alone. Did he have any idea what he was looking to face? Arthur pondered for a moment. He couldn't just let a life be wasted if that was the case.

He looked the young man up and down noting the state of his clothes. How long had been on the road? "How about a hot meal lad? Follow me if you're interested?"


Nanashi raised his eyebrow at the sudden invitation, sceptical towards the hospitality being shown. He couldn't help notice the silent examination of his attire too. Did this uniform he made really look strange. He thought it looked good. At least it covered what it intended to...

"Ive basically been travelling non stop since Toksong, you sure you want a stranger in your home though?"

He slowly made his way towards the entrance of the mans home, keeping a watchful eye for any form of trap.
 

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Nanashi raised his eyebrow at the sudden invitation, sceptical towards the hospitality being shown. He couldn't help notice the silent examination of his attire too. Did this uniform he made really look strange. He thought it looked good. At least it covered what it intended to...

"Ive basically been travelling non stop since Toksong, you sure you want a stranger in your home though?"

He slowly made his way towards the entrance of the mans home, keeping a watchful eye for any form of trap.
Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

It would seem as though this young man had traveled quite the distance. But, what could give one so young such motivation? He didn't reply at first. Arthur carried on walking. At his age he wasn't the swiftest. He opened the door to his home and left it open for the young man.

He made his way into the kitchen, the scent of wood smoke and old spices immediately clinging to his clothes. He set a heavy iron pot on the stove, adding water, and lit the kindling beneath it, the orange glow filling the shadowy corners. While the water worked up a low, rumbling boil, Arthur reached for a sack of root vegetables. With a sturdy, well-worn paring knife, he began to work, the rhythmic thump-thump-thump of the blade against the cutting board echoing in the silence. Carrots, knobbly and freshly pulled from the garden, were scraped clean and diced into rough, uniform chunks. He peeled the papery skin from a handful of onions, their sharp, tear-inducing fragrance cutting through the air, and chopped them quickly, scattering them onto the board. Finally, he quartered several potatoes, their starchy whiteness a contrast to the orange and yellow pile he’d amassed.

After a few moments of this focused work, he made his way to the sitting room, bringing a steaming mug of herbal tea before returning to the kitchen to stir the pot, now bubbling gently.

"Not many come here apart from for that rift. Not all return in one piece either. I've seen countless go into there... most in groups of 3." He continued to prep his food, now adding a generous measure of dried herbs from a small wooden box, bay leaves and thyme, to the stew, stirring the thick mixture thoroughly. "From what i've heard, it's just a reminder of the terror that once roamed this land, the nine tailed beast. Why would you even think about going there?"

After several more minutes, during which the stew began to release a rich, savory aroma, Arthur returned with two heavy, chipped bowls and a loaf of freshly baked bread, still warm to the touch. "Eat, boy. You'll need your strength after all that travelling." With that he gestured for the boy to eat and began to eat himself.
 

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Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

It would seem as though this young man had traveled quite the distance. But, what could give one so young such motivation? He didn't reply at first. Arthur carried on walking. At his age he wasn't the swiftest. He opened the door to his home and left it open for the young man.

He made his way into the kitchen, the scent of wood smoke and old spices immediately clinging to his clothes. He set a heavy iron pot on the stove, adding water, and lit the kindling beneath it, the orange glow filling the shadowy corners. While the water worked up a low, rumbling boil, Arthur reached for a sack of root vegetables. With a sturdy, well-worn paring knife, he began to work, the rhythmic thump-thump-thump of the blade against the cutting board echoing in the silence. Carrots, knobbly and freshly pulled from the garden, were scraped clean and diced into rough, uniform chunks. He peeled the papery skin from a handful of onions, their sharp, tear-inducing fragrance cutting through the air, and chopped them quickly, scattering them onto the board. Finally, he quartered several potatoes, their starchy whiteness a contrast to the orange and yellow pile he’d amassed.

After a few moments of this focused work, he made his way to the sitting room, bringing a steaming mug of herbal tea before returning to the kitchen to stir the pot, now bubbling gently.

"Not many come here apart from for that rift. Not all return in one piece either. I've seen countless go into there... most in groups of 3." He continued to prep his food, now adding a generous measure of dried herbs from a small wooden box, bay leaves and thyme, to the stew, stirring the thick mixture thoroughly. "From what i've heard, it's just a reminder of the terror that once roamed this land, the nine tailed beast. Why would you even think about going there?"

After several more minutes, during which the stew began to release a rich, savory aroma, Arthur returned with two heavy, chipped bowls and a loaf of freshly baked bread, still warm to the touch. "Eat, boy. You'll need your strength after all that travelling." With that he gestured for the boy to eat and began to eat himself.

Nanashi entered the home sloely, the rich smell of vegetables and spices coaxing him through the threshhold. He would take in the modest surrounds as the older man spoke, leaning against a wall opposite the kitchen, keeping a view of the cooking process. Paranoia had kept him alive so far, ever since his memories had become a distant haze. He couldnt get a read on this man, letting a complete stranger into his home with a hot meal, when all he wanted was answers.

He watched the man place some tea on the table, the soft aroma somehow filling the space quickly. He would wait while the man spoke, not entirely sure if he was safe.

"So your saying the rift is just a window into the past? Seems appropriate of the universal forces to mock me in such a manner. As to why, its simple. I need to get stronger, thats the one thing that has remained real to me. Something within me, hasnt stopped reminding me im weak. So if im stronger, i cant shut it off. It beats like a drum in my head."

As the man sat down with the stew, encouraging him to eat, Nanashi would slowly move to sit opposite of the man, removing his cap in some autonomous muscle memory. He eyed the meal, apprehensive to take a bite despite the grumvling coming from his stomach.

"So the rift is a bust unless i have....allies. Just great."

Again, almost autonomously, he brought his hands together somewhat like a prayer as a thanks for the meal, before taking a tentative sip of the food.
 

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Nanashi entered the home sloely, the rich smell of vegetables and spices coaxing him through the threshhold. He would take in the modest surrounds as the older man spoke, leaning against a wall opposite the kitchen, keeping a view of the cooking process. Paranoia had kept him alive so far, ever since his memories had become a distant haze. He couldnt get a read on this man, letting a complete stranger into his home with a hot meal, when all he wanted was answers.

He watched the man place some tea on the table, the soft aroma somehow filling the space quickly. He would wait while the man spoke, not entirely sure if he was safe.

"So your saying the rift is just a window into the past? Seems appropriate of the universal forces to mock me in such a manner. As to why, its simple. I need to get stronger, thats the one thing that has remained real to me. Something within me, hasnt stopped reminding me im weak. So if im stronger, i cant shut it off. It beats like a drum in my head."

As the man sat down with the stew, encouraging him to eat, Nanashi would slowly move to sit opposite of the man, removing his cap in some autonomous muscle memory. He eyed the meal, apprehensive to take a bite despite the grumvling coming from his stomach.

"So the rift is a bust unless i have....allies. Just great."

Again, almost autonomously, he brought his hands together somewhat like a prayer as a thanks for the meal, before taking a tentative sip of the food.
Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

Over his spoonfull of stew, Arthur eyed the young man with interest. Either he really didn't trust him, or he was the most polite young man he'd ever met. Then again, he could think this was a trap. The thought made Arthur chuckle inside. Taking another mouth full of stew, he placed his spoon in his bowl, then clasping his hands together, he rested his hand on them.

"You speak as though you're alone lad? Why would someone seek to face such a terror of the past? Can't you see what state it's left these lands in? Do you really want to fall victim to that?" Arthur spoke with a hint of concern in his voice. His job was to recruit for the Order, but something tore at him inside at the through of such a lonely young man lost in the world.

 

Antares

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Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

Over his spoonfull of stew, Arthur eyed the young man with interest. Either he really didn't trust him, or he was the most polite young man he'd ever met. Then again, he could think this was a trap. The thought made Arthur chuckle inside. Taking another mouth full of stew, he placed his spoon in his bowl, then clasping his hands together, he rested his hand on them.

"You speak as though you're alone lad? Why would someone seek to face such a terror of the past? Can't you see what state it's left these lands in? Do you really want to fall victim to that?" Arthur spoke with a hint of concern in his voice. His job was to recruit for the Order, but something tore at him inside at the through of such a lonely young man lost in the world.


Nanashi paused in the act of raising his own spoon, his hand holding perfectly still above the bowl. He did not look directly at the man but kept his gaze fixed on a point just past the older man's shoulder, his face briefly betraying the calm demeanor he had been cultivating.

"Sir, circumstances have lead me to remain alone. Since the loss of my memory and the added annoyance of people trying to follow me, it's just easier that way."

He would then slowly lower his spoon and place it precisely on the edge of his bowl before clasping his own hands in his lap, mimicking the man's posture, though his spine remained rigidly straight.

"And with a lack of any recent and not-so recent memories, i really could care less about the state of these lands or any of the 'terrors' of the past. I just have this inner compulsion to get stronger."

He would then allow a moment of silence to hang in the air, his gaze still distant, signaling that the statement was complete and would not be elaborated upon, his reserved nature acting as a shield against deeper inquiry.
 

The Pervy Sage

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Nanashi paused in the act of raising his own spoon, his hand holding perfectly still above the bowl. He did not look directly at the man but kept his gaze fixed on a point just past the older man's shoulder, his face briefly betraying the calm demeanor he had been cultivating.

"Sir, circumstances have lead me to remain alone. Since the loss of my memory and the added annoyance of people trying to follow me, it's just easier that way."

He would then slowly lower his spoon and place it precisely on the edge of his bowl before clasping his own hands in his lap, mimicking the man's posture, though his spine remained rigidly straight.

"And with a lack of any recent and not-so recent memories, i really could care less about the state of these lands or any of the 'terrors' of the past. I just have this inner compulsion to get stronger."

He would then allow a moment of silence to hang in the air, his gaze still distant, signaling that the statement was complete and would not be elaborated upon, his reserved nature acting as a shield against deeper inquiry.
Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

A boy with no memories, running from an unknown enemy, yet seeking to grow stronger. In his many years alive, Arthur knew that this contradiction was never an accident. This kind of person was either a masterful liar or profoundly dangerous.

Arthur listened, his posture relaxed, his expression unreadable as the young man spoke. A heavy, thoughtful silence stretched between them for several seconds after the boy finished.

"Well... it's a shame, truly," Arthur finally said, letting out a measured, almost regretful sigh. "You present so well, young man. Polite, eager... a perfect mask, or perhaps just a fatal hinderance in a world that demands sharp teeth." He didn't just rise; he straightened to his full, commanding height, the very air in the room seeming to compress under his presence.

(At that instant, a cold, sickening wave of wrongness crashed over Nanashi. It wasn't pain, but a terrifying lack of control. His vision blurred and dragged, refusing to snap into focus. The sounds of the room became muffled, distant, as if he were underwater. His control over his own limbs frayed, feeling like disconnected weights. The solid reality of the world around him began to fragment and fade into a dizzying gray.)

"I'm sorry, lad," Arthur's voice crisp, final, and chillingly devoid of emotion cut through the rapidly mounting haze. It seemed to come from a great distance, echoing in a void Nanashi was fast falling into......


 

Antares

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Ruins of Chungsu. Arthur, Order of the Golden Amputation

A boy with no memories, running from an unknown enemy, yet seeking to grow stronger. In his many years alive, Arthur knew that this contradiction was never an accident. This kind of person was either a masterful liar or profoundly dangerous.

Arthur listened, his posture relaxed, his expression unreadable as the young man spoke. A heavy, thoughtful silence stretched between them for several seconds after the boy finished.

"Well... it's a shame, truly," Arthur finally said, letting out a measured, almost regretful sigh. "You present so well, young man. Polite, eager... a perfect mask, or perhaps just a fatal hinderance in a world that demands sharp teeth." He didn't just rise; he straightened to his full, commanding height, the very air in the room seeming to compress under his presence.

(At that instant, a cold, sickening wave of wrongness crashed over Nanashi. It wasn't pain, but a terrifying lack of control. His vision blurred and dragged, refusing to snap into focus. The sounds of the room became muffled, distant, as if he were underwater. His control over his own limbs frayed, feeling like disconnected weights. The solid reality of the world around him began to fragment and fade into a dizzying gray.)

"I'm sorry, lad," Arthur's voice crisp, final, and chillingly devoid of emotion cut through the rapidly mounting haze. It seemed to come from a great distance, echoing in a void Nanashi was fast falling into......



Nanashi sank. Or at least thats what it felt like. The endless void surrounding him, threatening to swallow him up made him lose his cool.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"

Anger, betrayal, distrust. Raw emotion flooded the void around him, cascading like from the depths of the ocean. circulating and buffeting him around in this space. What did that decrepit geezer do. Was it poison, genjutsu, or something completely different. He felt like he was drowning within the flood of emotions he was experiencing.

" You know what ya geezer! SCREW YOU! Once im out of this, I'll kill you and not even any god you worship will spare you from it! YA HERE ME?!"

Nanashi's chest heaved as he fought to maintain his breathing, he hadnt let loose like that in about a year, since he first woke up in that awful place. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he struggled to maintain any semblance of control. Dissonant echoes rippled around him, incoherent to his ear. He still wasnt able to move, but he really wanted to curl up into a ball, he felt so small, so insignificant in this space...

"Someone....please"
 
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The Pervy Sage

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Nanashi sank. Or at least thats what it felt like. The endless void surrounding him, threatening to swallow him up made him lose his cool.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"

Anger, betrayal, distrust. Raw emotion flooded the void around him, cascading like from the depths of the ocean. circulating and buffeting him around in this space. What did that decrepit geezer do. Was it poison, genjutsu, or something completely different. He felt like he was drowning within the flood of emotions he was experiencing.

" You know what ya geezer! SCREW YOU! Once im out of this, I'll kill you and not even any god you worship will spare you from it! YA HERE ME?!"

Nanashi's chest heaved as he fought to maintain his breathing, he hadnt let loose like that in about a year, since he first woke up in that awful place. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he struggled to maintain any semblance of control. Dissonant echoes rippled around him, incoherent to his ear. He still wasnt able to move, but he really wanted to curl up into a ball, he felt so small, so insignificant in this space...

"Someone....please"
Narration:

Nanashi wakes in a dark room. He can hear water dripping. There is minimal light. His can't use his chakra and he is bound. He can hear muttering in the distance.

What will he do?
 

Antares

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Narration:

Nanashi wakes in a dark room. He can hear water dripping. There is minimal light. His can't use his chakra and he is bound. He can hear muttering in the distance.

What will he do?
MISSION START
A-Rank: Escape at any cost.


The moment Nanashi's consciousness returned, he was immediately and absolutely still, not showing any panic. He could tell upon waking that he was restrained, even within the darkness of the cold stone room, the tautness of his binds cut into his wrists and ankles painfully.

However, it was not only his limbs that was bound, his chakra itself had somehow been restrained. Was it some kind of sealing jutsu? At this moment he was unable to properly ascertain the method that prevented him from the use of his chakra. To be caught so easily off guard and rendered so completely immobile, filled him with a feeling he had long tried suppressing. Anger. Pure, cold and impatient anger. The feeling was violating and made him curse under his breath.

"That old fucking geezer. I'll kill him."

He pressed his back up against the rough stone wall, his high collar felt tight around his throat, like it was its own kind of shackle. He began to assess his surroundings, lifting his head slightly and using his periphery to analyze the gloomy confines. Light was minimal within the space, making it difficult for him to determine if he was in a dungeon or a basement of some kind.

The most crucial sound was not the rhythmic, irritating drip, drip, drip of water echoing nearby, but the muttering in the distance. He mentally tuned out the former to isolate the latter, straining to filter the language, the number of voices, and their direction. The voices were his immediate threat indicator, and they took precedence over his grim confirmation that his limbs were secured and his power was gone.

The aloof, timid mask that often concealed him had utterly dissolved. In this crisis, all that remained was the hard, furious core of a man demanding immediate control. Escape was not a strategy; it was an imperative. The necessity to act, born from the raw impatience of a personality still being forged, was overwhelming.

He became a rigid statue of suppressed fury, a coiled spring of readiness, waiting with a dangerous, surgical patience for the distant muttering to draw closer, or for the silence to reveal a weakness in his confinement.
 
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