1 The 180 Days of Blight [Private/Fuyuko] Tue Mar 05, 2019 1:56 am
Yoshihiro
B-rank
Traveler's Log wrote:
The Land of Noodles is a rather unremarkable place, all things considered. A small nation nestled atop the northern tip of the Shinwato peninsula, it borders between obscurity and irrelevance with surprising dexterity. It isn't hard to see why when one looks around: there's nothing here save for farmers and rice fields for as far as the eye can see. Above all else, everything here feels perpetually flat. Each small farmhouse looks the same, each cluster of buildings line the modest roads with an innate ability to blend into the background, and the people are suspicious of outsiders.
Despite this, there has always been a common perception that it and the nearby Land of Tea, were always something similar to the 'backyard' of the Land of Fire. They always were sovereign nations, and yet existed on the periphery of their much larger neighbors' sphere of influence. They're protectorate's in everything but name. The perfect kind of place to continue my travels as I craft my map of the known world... Amongst other reasons.
Word has reached Konohagakure that a mysterious famine has swept across the minor nation, decimating the harvests of the previous year and bringing a blight upon the many crops that serve as the backbone of the country's economy. Unemployment has suddenly risen, the daimyo is scrambling to find an answer, and the nation has remained largely at the mercy of imports from Konoha and Kiri. The medical nin have done what they can to analyze the strange blight, yet little progress has been made. The only certainty that is known is that some corrupted chakra is eating away at the natural energy here... something dark.
Suspicion has run rampant in this land. Distrust of one another, of shinobi, have been broiling and simmering. I've had my fair share of stops by some of the local officials wanting to know why a Chunin is wandering the countryside writing furiously in his journals. For once, I am glad to be recognized by my prior victory in the Chunin Exams; I've been let go easily enough by most guards.
I'm heading to the village of Ada, a town near the center of the nation. It was in these hinterlands the blight first appeared, and it is here that I hope to investigate to try and find a possible explanation to all of this.
The nights grow long, the shadows of the grain stalks seem more sinister here, the moon seems further away than before... I feel something in the air as I walk along the old roads. I don't know what it is, and yet, I cannot shake the feeling that something is watching me.Ever your faithful travelling partner,
ジョーよしひろ
Yojo felt the weight of his traveller's journal in the satchel slung over his back, along with the unfinished maps of the Land of Noodles that he'd been crafting. They were a reminder of why he'd come here, along with an innate curiosity for the strange dearth that had befallen this Konoha protectorate. He'd heard rumors of the famine and crop failures that seemingly appeared overnight, yet to see the results firsthand, was sobering.
Entire crop fields were wilted and black with bile. A smell of decaying vegetation lingered through the air. What healthy fields there were had barbed wire and other fencing lined all along the edges of the ranch. Scavengers looked at him with hungry and curious eyes, giving Yojo the kind of desperate gaze that made him shiver a bit. He kept one eye open when he slept here- and he always slept a ways away from the main roads. He didn't trust some of his fellow travelers, even if he sympathized with their plight.
Thus, his trip had taken a sideways detour. He'd decided to go to one of the inland villages known as Ada, one of the first places the blight struck, and one of the most suspicious and mysterious of all these places. He may not be a medical nin, but he certainly sought to help in what ways he could.
Yojo reached the top of a small hill, looking out form its top at the small village a ways ahead of him. It seemed so innocuous, like the others ones he passed, and yet, there was still a feeling of unease broiling in his stomach.
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