Event Mission Details:

OOC: Due to low activity in Suna and overlapping events, I'll make this a one post mission. Feel free to witness, join or write your own part in the story as you see fit.

---

The wind-swept lands of Sunagakure were far from being Mizuki's favourite. The monotone landscape, the incessant winds, the impression the whole country was abandoned... Mizuki wondered how people could live in a country where the oppressive heat battered down mercilessly and the wind seemingly took away all means of enjoying the horizon's view. Even Kumogakure, generally known for its cloudy and stormy weathers allowed some sight of the horizon. While the weather was not as great as in the Land of Rock, it didn't feel like a claustrophobic experience.

Her thoughts changed when the sharp smell of burn teased her nose and the wind grew darker in colour. The closer she got to Sunagakure, the stronger the smell of burn became, throwing in a mixture of charcoal, burned flesh and what not. The wind's howl grew heavier and louder, dropping its wails in favour for the crisping, cracking noise of blazing fires. Screams of terror filled the air, people ran on and off the streets. Some were trampled in the progress, or simply stabbed in the back. Mizuki couldn't say what caused this chaos, but she felt horrible at the thought of not helping out. These people needed help.

Making her way towards higher ground, Mizuki thought about how to proceed. The black raiton rod could serve as a beacon but dared she leave it alone while she searched for survivors? It seemed there was little other option to do so. Finding a relative safe spot outside of Sunagakure, and away from the battle that ensued in the distance, Mizuki unsealed the scroll containing the black raiton rods and planted it in the ground. As she took a few steps back, the black energy crackled and shot upwards, summoning its typical black clouds. As she looked at it and felt the pressure in the air change to a familiar hair-raising feeling, she almost felt happy to have it with her. The comforting resemblance of home, in comparison to the hell-hole that Sunagakure found itself in. Somewhat assured that this was the right thing to do, she left the storm for what it was, knowing that it would not falter to alter the sky and air around it, and ran towards the burning Village.

Finding quite a few stragglers, civilians mostly, she directed them towards the imposing dark clouds in the distance, telling them that they would be safe over there as long as they didn't touch the black rod. As she proceeded, she repeated time and time again how she was an envoy of Kumogakure sent by the Hastur Miyamoto, the thunder god, or how she was seemingly arriving just at the right time to help them out. Even if the looming darkness had little reassuring to some, the choice between staying on the battle field and gathering under dark clouds was quickly made.

But where civilians were easy to shepherd, bandits and shinobi alike had other ideals, and it didn't take long before Mizuki was obliged to intervene. Most of them foolish enough to assault her or bar her path generally ended being knocked out, or in worst case, lose a few fingers. But even though she refrained from killing anyone as much as possible, the inevitable occurred even here as the fear and madness held a tighter grasp onto some than the voice of hope and reasoning. Unfortunately, no matter the good intentions of the emissary she aimed to be, war never occurred without a death count.

Another time, Mizuki ran into a bunch of bandits trying to harass a couple of kids. Academy Students, by the looks of it, armed with kunai but otherwise barely holding the skill to defend themselves against the group that seemingly blamed the Suna-nin for not being able to fend of this misery, telling them they were to be punished. Sending her lightning javelins out to wound most of the bandits and attract their attention, it took little more than knocking out their self-imposed leader to get the others running. The kids thanked her, but their looks betrayed just as much how lost they were in the chaos of everything. Somewhat torn between helping them out by sending them towards the black 'flag' and telling them to seek shelter with their own forces, the general absence of Suna's force eventually pushed her to gather them just as much. They'd have to make a final decision once she returned, eventually, but it was the best course of action in the situation they were in. Suna students or not, they too were lives in need of preservation. Unlike the civilians, however, she requested for them to keep watch over the gathering masses, and to assure no one would touch the black rod - a small favour for saving their future, as in times of crisis nations needed to help each other.

A little further still, a one armed Ronin with katana in hand seemed to duke it out with a few yakuza, but even before Mizuki was able to intervene, shuriken forced her to jump away. Forming the hand seals for her bubblegum jutsu, she proceeded to jump into the fray, seeing more thrown weapons deflect upon the invisible barrier, taking out the criminals with a few well placed hits as the ronin and herself worked in a brief, but efficient tandem. It seemed that, despite the chaos, the yakuza still aimed to maintain a sense of control within their own district, wishing to punish the one armed ronin for ceasing the opportunity and grabbing a gourd of rather expensive alcohol. She had no intention to stay, but without a distinct goal and little hope to survive the war zone, Mizuki instead offered to gather at the black cloud and help protect the gathering people over there. With a shrug, and no care for others' well-being she refused, instead deciding to tag along as a companion until she either died or got bored of it as she hardly believed she'd see the end of the day anyway.

So now two of them, Mizuki moved on to find more people. Her companion, preferring to name herself 'Ronin' rather than to give her actual name, could keep up surprisingly well. Having lost her arm, Mizuki had expected her to be unable to fend for herself, but it seemed the Ronin could possibly be an even better swordsman than herself despite the handicap. She had a death wish, as it were, feeling that her handicap would bring her nowhere in life any longer. Considering death and catastrophe were everywhere, Mizuki doubted it would be hard for the woman to see her wish fulfilled. Moving through the streets, Mizuki could do nothing for those who were already dead, burned, killed or bled out, but even for those that were on the brink of death, she had little other means of 'help' than to save them from their misery with a last, swift executioner's strike. She was no Iryo-nin, and her companion cared little to spend her chakra on the helpless, even if she would have had the ability to heal, but in the disaster of the war Mizuki almost fell comfort in the teachings of her father. The Executioner Arts, which she had always tried to avoid learning almost came as heaven-sent on this day as she combined it with Lin's merciful ways - or rather those from Gora, her white panther.

Continuing her road through the streets and debris, Sunagakure had truly become a ghost city as it were and eventually, Mizuki decided a temporary retreat to the black raiton rod would be a wiser option as her own illness was rearing its head. The Village was too large to be searched through in a single day, and she needed the rest just as much, not to mention that she was quite worried about who and what would have been gathering in the embrace of the storms. As she arrived back at her starting point, clutching her chest while coughing, her eyes almost rolled out of their sockets when she saw the sheer amount of people that had gathered. Had she helped out this many? She didn't believe so. It was most likely the case that large crowds only attracted more crowds as time moved on, especially in times of war where everyone flocked together in hopes of finding a safe haven. Still, as she walked through the people to seal the rod again, she could see people's eyes light up in hope. Others pointed at her, nudging others as they mentioned who they were seeing. While she didn't wish to deny her helpful nature in the situation, she found the attention and the idea of being received as a hero in dire times a little too much, feeling uncomfortable at the thought she would have to lead such a large flock. She was no leader, nor was she a special jounin entitled to make tactical decisions in times of war, yet these people seemed to see her in a different light despite the gathering of dark clouds above them. Through her coughs, she smiled sheepishly, bowing courteously to those looking to reach out to her, giving them whatever words of hope and gratitude she could come up with.

Eventually, even the academy students she had met ran up to her, briefing her about the situation concerning the people that had flocked together, the additional ronin and even deserting Suna-nin of varying age that had joined them. The wounded and hungry, and those who could assist in providing solace to the needy. Even if some of those were likely of a higher rank than herself, they nodded in respect towards her. Unlike the civilians, however, they didn't do the whole 'untouchable messiah' idea and straight-forwardly walked up to her with their questions.

"You're the one who promised these people help?"
"Yes. I am Raiu Mizuki, an emissary of the Raikage Hastur Miyamoto. It was my intention to meet with the Kazekage for a diplomatic introduction but instead I found this war scene. My apologies for my untimely appearance."
"Tsh. Untimely? To these people your presence is a beacon of hope. Despite being no ally, you helped out those of ours in need."
"You are no enemies. The Raikage would not wish to see it otherwise that I put some effort to preserve the lives of innocents.", she looked back at the crowd behind her. "I did not expect this many people, however. What exactly happened?"
"Word is a turncoat found some allies and aims to purge the Village."
"... Purge?"
"Purge, indeed. One of the allies that despicable worm found is Mitsuo. It seems he was able to convince him in joining this war somehow. But if you ask me, this 'purging' is nothing more but an excuse to slake their bloodlust.", he spat on the ground.
"I'm terribly sorry for the losses you all have suffered. Could you tell me how Suna's forces are faring?"
"Can't say. When I saw what was occurring and who was at our doorstep, I deserted. Call me a coward if you wish, but at least I'm not killing my own people."
"Such decisions are hard to make, but I believe the civilians of Sunagakure could use the presence of a familiar force. Deserting or not, I believe your desire for survival could much be the key to lead these people to safety."
"I assume you mean Kumogakure?"
"Kumogakure has always been open for ronin and travellers alike. While I regret the loss of your homes, perhaps you might find a temporary vestige in the Land of Lightning. I may hold no sway over your decisions, but I would request you think about what is best for the safety of the remaining civilians of Sunagakure. A mission to protect what few lives remain, if you so wish."

There was a moment of quietude as the deserters contemplated their actions. A few sighed, but ultimately the weight of duty towards their Village still pressed on. They would not win the war today, nor would they be able to rebuild the Village for the moment, but life had its own ways of returning to devastated lands. So the remaining shinobi nodded, seeing the hope of the future despite the changes. What was one life when a whole future could be saved?

"Should you find Kumogakure's forces questioning you, tell them you followed the gathering of the black raiton clouds above you. The Raikage will recognise it as his personal mark."
"Thanks. We should be on our way. The sooner we leave this hell hole, the better for everyone."
"Remain safe."

It took a few more hours still before the mass of people had gathered their courage and materials, but eventually they departed the area and the Land of Winds in search for a new home. It was with mild regret and confusion the people looked back, wondering why the kunoichi was not leading them instead of the deserting Suna-nin, but with the exception of the one-armed Ronin they decided to follow nonetheless. Mizuki knew that it was not her place to be at the front of this flock. She was no leader nor strategist. Besides, her mission to herald the Raikage's arrival was far from over. She had still Konohagakure and Kirigakure to reach before she had any rights to go home, and word had it the Chuunin Exams were about to happen. What this meant for her mission, she couldn't say.


"So...", Ronin began once it was just her and Mizuki. "You're an executioner, huh?"
"What are you talking about?"
"The way you ended the suffering of some civilians."
"I'm no executioner. Everyone with heart would have done the same."

Ronin flopped down clumsily in the dirt, taking out the gourd from her hakama and drinking a good swig before offering it to Mizuki nonchalantly.

"Have a drink. It'll help with the cough."
"Doubtful", she replied, yet accepted the offer nonetheless. She took a careful sip, and coughed even more as she felt the drink burn through her throat.
"Good stuff, hm?"
"What was that?"
"Home-brewn sake. Stolen from the yakuza by yours truly.", Ronin grinned. "But seriously, are you no exeuctioner? I could use one, you know."
"Why's that?"
"Just look at me, Miz."
"I would prefer it you called me Mizuki"
"You're such a stiff.", she rolled her eyes. "Anyway, just look at me. My beautiful face is littered with scars from fighting, and my personality's rotten. I lost an arm, I lost whatever I could remotely call my home. "
"Most of those worries can be helped with a good medic."
"I'm also a gambler, thief and incorrigible drunk."
"Foul habits can be changed."
"Pah. No, babe, my life's at an end."
"I'm fairly certain your sword skills can still be put to good use, if that is what you are looking for."
"I might have been a prodigy in the Niten Ichi once, but I lost that reputation when I lost my arm."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"... but I'd recognise the Executioner Arts any day, any time."

She stole a glance at Mizuki's expression, whom returned her a cold glare. The last thing she wanted was to meet someone who recognised her father's style and brought it up as a conversation. Even if she had killed to end suffering, she had killed nonetheless.

"Heart filled with compassion, nerves of steel, yet even your eyes could kill."
"Please cease your pleasantries."
"I'm not judging you. I've seen it plenty of times before I was a Ronin. I know its history, its lineage. My father was a huge fan of what he considered the greatest honour in history."
"You sound unconvinced."
"Aren't you?"
"What honour is there in killing?"
"Fair enough. I'm just saying... Your technique looks much like you were thought the sword of compassion."
"I'm unfamiliar of such a sword style as my father's style is called Heaven Sword."
"What's in a name, right? It's rather that the Arts you use are different from the way Samurai generally use it. They use it as a sign of honour, as the origins of the arts are forged in it. To be mercifully killed by another samurai was a great honour."
"I would not claim to know the ways of the samurai, Ronin. I'm a kunoichi in service of the Raikage."
"Oh, I heard you before."

Ronin took another gulp of the sake, quietude temporarily setting between the two. The winds had yet to drop their howls, but the sounds of a waged war were slowly decreasing in amount. Whoever the Suna-nin were facing, it seemed the fight was slowly grinding to a halt.

"There are three distinct paths, Miz. The path of honour, the road of war and the blade of compassion. They are all the same fighting style, but their intention differs."
"Why are you telling me this, Ronin? I am not an executioner."
"I heard ya. I told you, I know the Arts. You are still being taught, your master strike yet to be executed. Well, it is what it is. I was just hoping you'd find it in your heart to end the life of a woman who has nothing to live for anymore."
"I... Why did you not travel to Kumogakure? You could rebuild your life there."
"I told you when we met. I have a death wish. Suna is empty, so there will be no one to grant me my last desire."

Mizuki understood the words well, but she was reluctant. If Ronin wanted to die she could just as well go join the war, and while Mizuki would have wanted to offer that suggestion, she didn't. She couldn't bring it up to be so rude, so apathetic. For a moment, Mizuki felt that Ronin could just as much be a reflection of her own future once she had lost everything there was to care for. Her parents, her sister, Lin, Kumogakure... Shaking her head, Mizuki regained her composure as she pushed away the thoughts towards such a dreary future.

"If death is truly what you wish, then I will grant you your respite."
"Thanks, Miz. I mean, Mizuki. And please, take my blade with you. My future may not hold much hope, but my katana and wakizashi should find the hands of a new master. Let its spirit live on."

Ronin detached her daishō and positioned herself to take a last look at the remains of her own home. Sunagakure. The sands. The howling winds. As Ronin closed her eyes to hold fast onto this last loving image, Mizuki severed her life with a single slash. Picking up the daishō and deciding her duty in Sunagakure was now fulfilled, the kunoichi raised her gaze in the direction of Konohagakure.

---

[EXIT]

3196/3000

The underground facility that Yasu inherited in was rather expansive, with more than a few rooms he had never been in, some because he hadn't discovered them, others because he never thought of going in them. He'd been doing some rather routine cleaning to prevent dust and sand build up in his underground bunker. Even though the bunker was sealed from the outside elements, anytime he opened it to leave or brought in something from outside it would bring in detritus from outside, and, even though he couldn't prove it, he was pretty sure something else was living down here with him. He didn't really mind either way, but things would be knocked over or misplaced, and he couldn't put his finger on why. As he flicked the switch that illuminated one of many empty halls in the building that seemingly led nowhere he methodically swept it; scooped up the piles of dust, lent, and sand; tossed them in a waste bin; and repeated the process ad nauseum. As he reached the end of the massive, seemingly endless, immaculate, hospital white hallway after almost a full day of cleaning the bunker, he leaned back against the furthest wall. He sighed a large pointless sigh of relief as he notice it seemed like part of the wall actually moved behind him. Confused he spun around and inspected the wall noticing no real change in surface texture or any signs of this wall not being a normal wall. Yasu tapped the wall a few times in order to determine the nature of the sinking he noticed before, wasting minutes of his time for the sake of his own curiosity. When the wall didn't respond it almost became a neurotic tic  for him as he frantically poked the wall. Eventually he would tap a spot at about the height of his shoulders with just enough pressure that an eight inch square sunk into the wall. Relieved by the fact he finally discovered the stimulus, he placed his palm on the square and pushed firmly. He waited a few seconds. Then a few seconds more. He tried pumping chakra into the wall, but it seemed didn't seem receptive. He tried forcing it further in but after sinking an inch and a half into the wall it sank no further. Still the door didn't open. After minutes of fiddling with the trolly door he gave up and removed his hand. A door-sized segment of wall sank into the floor revealing a large dusty room full of fuinjutsu materials like scrolls, brushes, and inks.

After an couple of hours of surveying, cleaning, and actually organizing the room Yasu realized the incredible amounts of usefulness of sealing scroll and was inspired to make off for the Hidden Sand to get some already made ones for himself. He took a moment to regain his sense of direction as he left out of the room, not bothering to try and figure out how to re-seal it. A few minutes of sprinting, and he could get to his study and grab a three bags of ryo from one of the dozens of drawers embedded in the wall. From another he would grab Red Moon. He would make his way to the entrance and set the ryo down on the ground and hop in the back of his ever ready sentinel, Ogre that stood at the bottom of the stairs that led outside.

---

The Sun baked the vast sea of sand that surrounded the village hidden within it for dozens of miles around the village there was no real change in the slowly rippling sea of sand. The ruins of a once mighty, seemingly unchallenged village now seemed to be sinking as punctures in the walls of the village let in scum and sand and criminals like water into war-strained ship hull. No matter how the holes were plugged or watched, eventually the seal broke and the water flooded back in. Buildings on the edges of the great village were being submerged in waves of combatants and fire-scarred bricks and shattered glass. It was a sight only truly appreciable for the vulturous birds that preyed on the death and destruction of the village. They could normally fly freely with their vision unimpaired by clouds or weather. Outside of the village a single black rod was planted in the sea of sand. It was an event that was so infinitesimally tiny, in this otherwise vast desert it could have gone unnoticed for years, yet it drew the attention of the entire desert. About seven miles from that rod at an unremarkable dune of sand a small gust of wind and sand cleared the dune revealing a smooth stone slab that was only exposed enough for it to open up let a behemoth of a man leave out of the building beneath it and reseal itself before the sand began reclaiming its territory.

Ogre stretched joints in its unnaturally large body. A thin, tight, cloth mask covered his nose and the lower half of his face extending into the large, black cloak that obscured the rest of his form. After a few loud pops of stale joints, he took of in a sprint with a small shock wave forming in the sand where his feet were. As he sprinted towards the Village he noticed a large black plume forming in the sky. The last time there was a plume like that over the village, it was under siege. This time it was different though this seemed to be an actual cloud, dismissing the fact that this was a desert, the cloud was peculiar in many ways. It seemed to be self generating around a focal point, unmoving around that focal point, and it was much too dark for any cloud produced in the Land of Wind. His interest peaked by the phenomenon his course changed by a degree or two aiming himself for the focal point of the cloud. After about a half mile of following the cloud he saw purplish-black energy ripple across the surface. The manner in which the energy danced into and out of the cloud illuminating it as it passed through and around it made it hard for Ogre to not suspect that it was actually electricity but it's appearance was too different from any energy that Ogre would call lightning and such a scale had to be too large for any jutsu or chakra powered event. The energy would retreat to a dense point in the inky cloud like a spring compressing itself before leaping to the ground before the process repeated itself once more. The process completely confused yet simultaneously enthralled Ogre.

Ogre still moving at his max speed without having slowed down even a fraction as if he was running on pure curiosity made it to within a mile of an event, the black lightning having plummeted to the ground many times in the time it took him to reach it. It seemed almost harmless as it reached its destination, and seemed to touch the same point again and again, with no signs of destruction that Ogre could perceive. He ran his mind entering a mental landscape where he pulled books he had read off of a shelf, flipping through them looking for something that was even mildly relevant to this situation, and while he could find information that disproved his previous beliefs of lightning jutsu on this scale, the coloration still evaded him. Months ago he had read in one of the hundreds of books the previous owner of his bunker had left behind that there were combination jutsus that utilized jutsu that created clouds to create a phenomenon that allowed for a large amount of chakra to create a raiton technique of a caliber that was recorded to be similar to this one in magnitude. By the time he had finished going through the records that existed in his mind he had arrived to the edge of a large crowd whose epicenter seemed to be roughly where the focal point of the black lightning strikes were, their faces full of awe.

Once again the lightning hit the ground and the croud began moving outwards away from the stimulus, but Ogre had to go closer and see the cause for himself. To see what could stain the skies of Suna like this. There was a clearing almost 20 meters in radius that he entered into unafraid of the lightning. It wasn't a defiant bravery, more like an uncaring one. Uncaring about the effects of said lightning or the damage it possibly could cause to this body. He was absolutely dumb struck that at the very center of this event was a little black rod, that honestly was smaller than his hand, that stuck defiantly out of the ground sucking in the lightning that struck it, absorbing it completely. From the inside of his cloak Ogre pulled out a notepad and began taking notes.

'How Aesthetic.' Yasu thought to himself.

[1520 words]
-5 chakra for Puppet Technique.

It was almost comical watching this massive figure scribble notes his notebook with his teeny pencil, when both of said items were obviously meant for a person nearly half his. Nevertheless Ogre manufactured legible font on a relatively small scale fitting up to a thousand words on each page before flipping that page over to the next. Over the course of ten or so minutes the strangest thing to him was the fact that the rod seem to almost pull the raiton into it, as opposed to it being stricken by the element. This hypothesis made him believe that maybe there was some sort of ambient chakra in this area that the rods were trying to absorb, and, like a cell using osmosis to suck water in and leave poisonous, dissolved materials outside of its cell wall, this tiny rod forced the chakra to nature transform into raiton so it could flow into it. He would have to do some research on this material/ phenomenon to understand it further. He looked at the cloud above that obscured the sun's intense rays then back to the rod. It was obviously made of a chakra conductive metal based off of its hue, luster, and shape. It was an unnaturally smooth, obviously manufactured, nearly perfect cylinder. Frankly from a craftsmanship point of view, this was a flawlessly crafted master piece among master pieces. Yasubei began taking notes on its general  look, noting its visual properties and doodling a near identical copy of its shape from the surface up, and while he was tempted to pull it up to appease his curiosity the thought of destroying an event so sublimely aesthetic nauseated him beyond words. Ogre had completely forgotten about the crowd around him until he heard the sand crunch behind him as someone walked closer to him.

Ogre closed the book sheathing it back into the depths of the black cloak he wore. While he remained facing the rod, his attention shifted to the person behind him. Now that he was no longer focusing on the rod wholly he noticed the crowd had more or less dispersed into low density clusters that had moved fairly far away from the focus that was causing the event, enjoying the relief it provided to them. Except for one. a man who proudly donned a Suna headband, with the respective villages insignia scarred by the blade of a purposeful, unfaithful kunai. This was one who had forsaken the desert. While Ogre didn't dislike this kind of person there was nothing appealing about them. As the Ronin came closer, Ogre glanced over his shoulder hoping to scare her off with the glance. He noticed that on her back was a poorly crafted puppet that was obviously of lower quality than Ogre sloppily tied there with bandages. The ronin hungrily looked at the focus that was semi-submerged in the ground, and unseen Yasu hungrily smiled. So you wanna dance? The ninja thought as Ogre turned to face the smudge that infested this beautiful scene with its ungraceful, ragged appearance.

[WC= 513/2033]
-5 chakra for Puppet Technique

Ronin Stats:

A D-Rank tanto and a D-Rank puppet that can shoot out a dozen senbon at a time. She seems to have unreasonably put hundreds of senbon in this puppet and has put quite a few on her self too.

The area grew quiet as Ogre and the ronin stared each other down. Silently the ronin's foot shifted back as she prepared to unwrap her puppet, only not having it out, because she hadn't expected resistance as most of the village ninja were to busy defending the city from within to make their way to its outskirts, but Yasu was no village nin. The protection that he offered the sand was not bound by the rules of the village that floated in it. As the tension between the two rose and the palpable intent to fight one another was felt by the civilians in the area, the brief respite they had from the chaos was ended as the moved hundreds of meters away knowing first hand the destruction two ninja could cause even if they were only D-Ranked. The face off continued for minutes both shinobi waiting for the other to misstep first. The motionless Ogre had been waiting for a very specific moment and at the two minute mark it came. The rod made lightning strike behind Ogre, and he Ronin blinked mid-inhale. In a quick burst Ogre leapt at the missing-nin rearing back his arm and was upon the ninja shortly after she re-opened her eyes, his armed fully reared back. The bandages on her puppet unraveled as she fruitlessly tried to use it to block Ogre, who had gotten to close to fast. He stopped about four feet away "front hand" slapping the ronin, sending her about a hundred feet away skipping her off the ground like a stone on a pond.

As Ogre bent his knees to go in for a follow up the puppet that had been left the edge of his field of view lauched dozens of senbon infused with a D-rank Fuuton technique from its chest which he batted away with the back of his hand. After a moment of wrestling it pinned the puppet chest down holding its legs down with his feet and resting his knees on its forearms. Defiantly the puppeteer made the puppet shoot another burst of chakra infused senbon this time for the puppet's mouth a few nicked Ogre as he quickly leaned back to avoid the spray before he grabbed the puppet's head and rapidly thrust his head forward in a full body motion slamming his head against the puppet causing a small crack in its face. Another spray came out, but this time Ogre forcefully turned the inferior puppet's face towards its own puppeteer sending a couple chakra enhanced  senbon at her. In response she unsheathed her tanto and succeeded in deflecting most of them, but the trick had done its job, the link between the puppet and its owner had been severed as the senbon had gone through her chakra strings cutting them.

Ogre's cloak ripped off leaving him in leather loincloth that was there purely for aesthetics as Yasubei emerged from his back, kicking the container open locking eyes with the puppeteer before he pointed Red moon at her, and Ogre lifted the puppet in his hands by its chest slowly crushing it. Yasubei jumped out of Ogre's back and charged at the Rogue ninja who defiantly leapt back at him after he took her cherished puppet from her. An open compartment in his chest allowed him to control Ogre and still fight, though this was obscured mildly by his loose cloak, the ronin he was bearing down on surely didn't notice as the two repeatedly clashed blades. After just a few clashes, Yasubei began out classing the ronin delivering cuts along her body in place that he knew would be debilitating, one under the arm. A few swings later one cutting of her forehead protector. A cut to the back of her left ankle. Then a cut just piercing the skin of her forehead. The ronin was obviously tiring out as the blood kept flowing out of their wounds. The civilians not knowing whose side to take stood silently. As the distractions of the kunoichi increased Yasu coldly took advantage of the opportunity sliding Red Moon into her wrist increasing her blood loss and cutting a few of the tendons that she was using to grip the weapon causing it to fall to the ground.

The kunoichi stumbled backwards falling onto her backside and said. "Wait. Wait. I'll leave. You don't have to do this."

"I do you ruined such an aesthetic moment with your gross presence." Yasubei reared back Red Moon before slicing into the kunoichi's neck, specifically her carotid artery along with some nearby capilaries. "What a fittingly unaesthetic death you face." With his mood soured, Yasubei looked at the mess he created and left back to his bunker with Ogre leaving the dying ronin behind with her broken puppet scattered in the sand. With a final act of resistance she threw a single kunai into Yasu's left shoulder which went mostly unnoticed by him. The sand could deal with her. He was able to muster up the will to pull it out anyway with the taste this fight left in his mouth. He left her and the village he couldn't imagine that she would be the last ninja to show up at the rod, and he would rather be back in his bunker studying his notes to try and replicate the tool he had witnessed. Eventually on the walk back he would hop back into Ogre, controlling him from the inside once more. Once within the comfort of the bunker Yasu slowly started repairing himself and Ogre, completely forgetting what he originally went to Suna to do.

Meanwhile back at the rod an Anbu wearing a bear mask arrives on scene collecting the body of the ronin, after the fight had been reported to authorities. The Anbu took note of the rod being the source of the black raiton storm he had seen forming, but was too preoccupied to deal with honestly hoping its source would stay where it was and not ravage the already hurt village. Seeing what it was now with his own eyes the bear-masked Anbu sighed in relief, and went to report the good news to his Captain taking the dying body of the ronin with him.

[EXIT THREAD]

Final WC= 3090/ 3000
-5 chakra for Puppet technique, -20 chakra for front hand, back hand combo