The night was mostly quiet, nothing stirring.
That was the problem though, wasn't it? When the night was quiet and no one was making a sound, it usually meant there was something wrong, something dastardly afoot. The elder man, just entering his thirties sat quietly outside of a room, with one leg crossed over the other. He had a scruffy black beard with flecks of gray and a few bits of ash in it, possibly from the cigarette between his lips. The pungent smoke that came off of it smelled of heaven to him, but to others it would likely be an affront to their senses. Such would be the case for those two guards who would walk by his station, giving him an evil glare as they passed, making statements that it would be a dead giveaway should an enemy see or smell his habit. He chuckled to himself, waving them away. They were fully aware, judging by the armor and mask on the ground next to him, that if he wanted them silenced, he could handle it quickly and quietly. Or, they should have been, but the man was not one to brag or threaten, and simply returned to what he had been doing, which up until the two had passed him, his hands had sat idly while he spaced out.
His smooth but strong hands gripped a piece of wood and a bright blue tanto, the blade of the latter against the wood, which was coming into a shape. He was sitting quietly, whittling away at the wood, trying to make it into something he would give to his daughter, or his female friend when he saw them next, taking the quiet time he had on his current mission to perfect a skill he'd picked up only a decade prior. There were groans and whimpers from the door to his left, at his back, but he ignored them, only mildly annoyed at their constant utterance. The night was drawing out and there hadn't been so much as a peep from enemy factions who would come for this man's head, so he really had nothing to worry about as long as he kept himself quiet and didn't do anything stupid. The sandstone manse they were occupying would at least keep him moderately safe from your everyday bandit or headhunter. For ninja, well that's why they'd hired the man sitting there whittling. They'd hired Syekren Uchiha to act as a bodyguard and a deterrent. This was his first mission acting independently, trying to build a name for himself as a mercenary instead of a ninja.
Hurried foot steps came to the door, with a naan of slightly lanky stature opening the wooden barrier and peeking his head out, turning it left, then right quickly. He was noticeably shaken up, fearing for his life. His pores were oozing salty sweat from them, and his eyes were bloodshot from the lack of sleep. His gaze fell upon the Uchiha who sat calmly in his chair, whittling away a piece of wood which was slowly coming to resemble a desert cat. The thin man had an air of incredulity about him at such a sight, turning up his nose and glaring down at the man who was meant to guard him. "This is what passes for bodyguards in your mercenary troupe? You layabout! There are assassins coming for me and you're playing with your wood!* What would you have done if someone had broken through my wall and killed me? Get your useless ass up and watch for intruders!" With the huff-puff of such statements leaving his lips, the snarl of the 'important' dignitary, or leader, whatever he was had become even more like a scowl of hatred, something the Uchiha knew too well. He quietly stopped his whittling and flipped his tanto around his head, moving his hand like lightning to toss the blade at the man who was still glaring. His body moved even faster than his hand had initially, catching the blade before the target had a chance to flinch, the Uchiha's blood red Sharingan staring into the eyes of his employer, the man's bravado punctured. "Lissen lad, there'll not be a lotta men that kin kill ye wiv me aroun'. So just calm yerself before Ah take the other side o' this bounty, yea?"
The uchiha was using an accent he had been perfecting for the last decade, as he wanted more anonymity than anything. Given his beard and the changes his face had gone through, he was sure no one from the village originally would recognize him. Still, he stepped away from his employer, who rushed back into the room, pacing frantically back and forth, cursing about the 'Uchiha scum'. Or whatever he was blabbering about. Just another person who thought themselves above everyone else. All talk and no heart. Nonetheless, Syekren would finish what he was doing, placing the newly cut desert cat upon his chair, setting about replacing his tanto in the sheath on his back left and grabbing his armor chest piece. He slipped it on, tightening the straps, going about doing the same with his leg protecters, tightening them down to ensure they would not slip off or move. The porcelain white colour of his ANBU armour contrasted his black long sleeve skintight shinobi shirt and black shinobi tights well. Fashion aside, the armor was incredibly useful for stealth missions and negating damage from physical attackers. If only his mask was more powerful than it was at the moment. The Uchiha sighed and lifted his porcelain mask to his face, staring into the grinning feline face before him. It still had small spatters of blood upon it from the last time he had visited the land of wind. The night of Suna's burning playing over and over in his mind, giving him a dazed look. He snapped out of his daze when he heard a whimpering scream from the room of his employer, and what sounded like fighting just outside in the camp. Someone was yelling to come out and before the Uchiha knew it, flames were enveloping the side of the sandstone mass, turning parts of it to ash and glass instantly, causing structural damage. Without waiting for an invitation to get into action, the man slipped his mask on and attached his trench knives to the hoops upon his belt, running towards his employer. With a swift motion the skinny man was thrown over his broad shoulders, while he turned and dashed back out of the room and down the hallway. As the building began to come down, the man would throw himself and his employer from the window, down below into the soft sand on the other side of the building knocking the wind from the smaller man and causing Syekren to cough a bit, but otherwise suffer no damage.
Glass and fire would soon become large parts of the camp, making it no longer safe for the two to remain in their position. With fighting going on, the Uchiha pushed his employer to his feet and picked him up once more, running away from the scene that was unfolding. What he'd need to do is store the weak man away in a more protected location so he could fight off the attacker. There were many places he could do such a thing as well. This was the desert lands of Kaze no Kuni, the lands Syekren knew well from his extensive years here. His career as a ninja and an ANBU had made him more familiar with the sands and their secrets than even some of the most seasoned adventurers. He knew when to cover for fear of a sandstorm, where to step in the door to hell, which mesas had caves to hide in, and even where each oasis was. Whoever he was facing, they were on his turf now, and he wasn't going to make things easy for them, not one bit.
It would be during the destruction of the building his employer and himself had originally been in that the two would make an escape toward the expanse of sands surrounding the camp, with more guards rushing towards the attacker in a futile attempt to stop them and take them down. Whoever this person was, the five or six guards armed with various basic weapons wouldn't be enough to stop them, but would likely give the Uchiha time to think of a plan. During the nights it was much colder in the desert, and while Syekren was used to it, his employer clearly hadn't dressed for such things. Wearing what could only be described as a fine bed robe which couldn't be very thick. It would have to do for a while, as they reached point some distance away, no more than ten meters outside of the boundaries for the camp, with Syekren pushing his employer down behind a dune that held a small sandstone tunnel. He'd point in the tunnel and watch the lanky man hurredly scramble inside, hiding it what was likely a former den for a wild animal. Syekren would begin to walk back towards the camp, slipping his Ashiaro from the small tool pack on the back of his belt, affixing it to his shoes. The ashiaro he wore this time was that of coyotes, and he ran around the far left side of the camp, trying to get a good look at what was attacking. By now that rest of the camp's guards would be dead, leaving little if any distractions to work with. It would come down to the skills of the Uchiha and this unknown assailant.
With a quiet sigh, the man drew the tanto from its sheathe, holding it at chest level in front of himself defensively, crouching down and readying his body. He would attempt to sneak about the camp, distracting the figure when he could, hoping to get a surprise attack on them. Seeing a chance, Syekren pulled a Shuriken from his pouch, reeling back and throwing it as quickly as he could at a building behind the figure, which would be not too far away. It would hit the building with a loud clang, hopefully giving the window of opportunity the ninja needed as he began to string together handseals, inhaling deeply. He'd raise up his mask to have his mouth unfettered and then coat his lungs and throat with the katon chakra. After a second he'd spit it out in a large fireball, heading straight for the figure at astounding speed, meant to strike him with enough force to knock him off balance.
1,802
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Name: Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu (火遁・豪火球の術 ~ Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu)
Canon/Custom: Canon
Rank: C
Type: Offensive
Element: Katon
Range: 80 metres
Specialty: Ninjutsu
Duration: 1 post
Cooldown: 3 posts
Description: The user forms the Tiger hand seal and breathes deep, filling their throat and lungs with chakra. They then exhale this chakra as a massive orb of roaring flames. It can either be fired as a gigantic sphere of flame or used as a flame-thrower style stream of flames. Either way, the released flames will engulf their target, causing second degree burns to all exposed flesh. The ball of flame will be the size of a bus, regardless of which form it is used in. When used as a flame-thrower, the attack will extend 15 metres in-front of the user. When the user stops breathing the stream of flame or a post lapses, the stream will end and the fireball will simply evaporate. When used as a fireball the sphere will travel at 30 mph. While this form of the attack can travel 80 metres, after it spans 25 metres it will begin to fade, gradually shrinking and becoming less potent. After 50 metres, it can only cause mild first degree burns
*Giggity.