You have answered Sunagakure's summons, "arrive at the Ranger Tracking Grounds Main Office at 10 o'clock in the morning for your assessment." The note was vague but addressed to you in the same typed script. It did not even mention what or why you were being assessed. It was likely that you considered the reason why, you expressed interest in participating in the World martial Arts Tournament next year but the message and the messenger seemed to have few words of advice or encouragement to share. Of course, it would be cheating or unfair for someone to give a potential fighter the advantage in a fight, in this study every shinobi served as a control. There were personal favorites under consideration but if they could not blaze their own way then they would never make it to the tournament.
A relative unknown, members of the Bishomon project have become interested in what you can do. A puppet user is indeed rare. Someone willing to augment themselves or others to meet and ends. Science would one day become the new magic through people like you. They wanted to see what you could do.
The Tracking Grounds was a Ranger-only center that took up several acres of land. It was an impressive, albeit plain-looking structure with a dome shape and an earth-colored hue. The tracking grounds themselves were open to shinobis in good standing with Sunagakure for the purposes of training but thus far they were underutilized. Since Shouki's final stand in this very center, the Tracking Grounds has been closed while the Ranger's headquarter's security was being reviewed. Presently closed to the public unless one has a specific invitation, you would be among the first shinobi to enter this structure in months.
The entrance would be simple, guarded by a pair of well-armed and intimidating men. Both looked more like the sort of men that would grapple a bull, beat it and then eat it raw for their morning meal. Their eyes would flash a moment of recognition, yes they knew you were coming and what you looked like, with a grunt and a nod they would allow you entry. Of course, if someone was foolhardy enough to disrespect them, the door would slam closed and you would be faced with combat before you even reached the training ground. Yes, you were probably 'stronger' than them, despite their intimidating presence because if they were indeed more capable it would be them answering this invitation and not you.
The entrance would lead to a long, narrow hall. The walls were made of some sort of metal. It would be Takahashi Steel. On either side there was also a thick wall of glass that separated their reinforcement beams. To the right, through the glass you would see a wooded area. Many Sunans have never seen such a dense growth of vegetation except perhaps in pictures and books. You would not be able to hear anything through the glass but every one in awhile you would think that you might have seen something, a glint of an eye or a bit of fur. Grass was limited but there was mossy, slick-appearing terrain and thorny bushes. To the left, a frozen wasteland that might remind some of Kirigakure. This is a place of perpetual cold, the area is nothing but rocks and ice and the elements alone are enough to risk one's life. Both quite disparate from what you are used to. The shade and the greenery versus the absence of warmth entirely. If you press your hand against the glass of the frozen tundra you would feel the chill, it would be almost painful. Strange.
This place was one of the things that made the Ranger's unique, they were trained hunters. They spent their idle time preparing as survivalists and they did not hunt "small game." Rangers were one of the few that actively sought dangerous S-Class beasts as well as creatures and monsters of dubious origin. In truth, Rangers were the Monster Hunters of Wind Country but they did too good of a job. With a lack of dangerous game, need for the Rangers as a whole diminished until the Rangers finally dispersed as a unit entirely. Their way lost and forgotten by most as families moved on. There were a few, a mere sprinkling here and there that still knew the old ways. That was how this structure was erected but Rangers are notoriously fickle and that particular Ranger had not been seen in some time. Some have come to believe that she was lost or killed while seeking game, it was a common cause of death for Rangers who live short and brutal lives.
This hallway would prove to be quite long, in fact you would walk for over a mile before you would reach your destination -- a door. No, not THE DOOR, simply a door. It would be unlocked and you would leave the glass encased hallway and enter an office. The office would be neat and rather small given the distance you traveled to reach this central hub. There would be a desk and a man sitting behind the desk, one could only assume that he was a Ranger. He would not address, you rather a young woman who would take a few steps towards you as you entered the room. She was dressed like a fifteen year old gothic boy, not a representative for one of the largest tournaments in the world. There was a simple reason for this -- she did not represent the tournament, she represented Sunagakure's interests.
"Are you Oda Yatamaru?"
She would wait for you to confirm who you were. Behind her you might notice a pair of Medics with a stretcher, one announcing to the other that 'we nearly lost that one... geesh, this kid was insane,' one of the Medics mused shaking his head as he lifted his side of the stretcher. 'Yeah, but he looks as tough as nails, this kid is scary,' the second commented. 'Well, we better get going with this one, no telling what the next one is going to look like.' The second would hoist up his end of the stretcher with a somber nod and they would prepare to depart from the room through a door opened for them by the gothic young woman. It was not the same door you entered.
"Excellent, sign here." She would have you a scroll. Once unfurled it would be a liability statement claiming that you are aware and affirm that you are about to enter into a dangerous situation. That death, disfigurement and even potential disability may result from participation. "I am sure they filled you in," she would announce while she waited for your signature. "Of course they wouldn't, would they?" She sighed, the project was not public yet. Well, she better explain. "You are about to enter a simulated combat experience unlike anything you have ever seen before. This will assess you in a 'safe'"</B><i></i> she made quotation marks with her fingers "...environment. You will still suffer the damage of powerful attacks, determined by the setting dial on the machine. I have you and the others set for Level 8. Yes, there are higher levels but those are intended for group combat experience and we felt that it would be unnecessary." She would press a button on the Ranger's desk and the walls would open up. There would be several doors, well more specifically 5. Each would be labeled simply: desert, grassland, forest, tundra, water.
"Pick a biome and enter when you are ready. We have added security measures to the door. Returning will be difficult to say the least. you have thirty seconds to return through the door. Do your best." She would give him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. As he enters she would add an additional query, "Do you have any next of kin, medical issues, excreta that I will need to be aware of when I---" The door would slam between you an her, trapping you inside whichever biome you have chosen to enter. She gave you the instructions -- you have 30 seconds to return through the door you just left. It sounds simple, but it truly is not. The door would hum to life,hidden gears would start to whirl as an unknown power-source empowered the massive mechanical structure.
It was go time!
<B>Intruder Targeted!
A relative unknown, members of the Bishomon project have become interested in what you can do. A puppet user is indeed rare. Someone willing to augment themselves or others to meet and ends. Science would one day become the new magic through people like you. They wanted to see what you could do.
The Tracking Grounds was a Ranger-only center that took up several acres of land. It was an impressive, albeit plain-looking structure with a dome shape and an earth-colored hue. The tracking grounds themselves were open to shinobis in good standing with Sunagakure for the purposes of training but thus far they were underutilized. Since Shouki's final stand in this very center, the Tracking Grounds has been closed while the Ranger's headquarter's security was being reviewed. Presently closed to the public unless one has a specific invitation, you would be among the first shinobi to enter this structure in months.
The entrance would be simple, guarded by a pair of well-armed and intimidating men. Both looked more like the sort of men that would grapple a bull, beat it and then eat it raw for their morning meal. Their eyes would flash a moment of recognition, yes they knew you were coming and what you looked like, with a grunt and a nod they would allow you entry. Of course, if someone was foolhardy enough to disrespect them, the door would slam closed and you would be faced with combat before you even reached the training ground. Yes, you were probably 'stronger' than them, despite their intimidating presence because if they were indeed more capable it would be them answering this invitation and not you.
The entrance would lead to a long, narrow hall. The walls were made of some sort of metal. It would be Takahashi Steel. On either side there was also a thick wall of glass that separated their reinforcement beams. To the right, through the glass you would see a wooded area. Many Sunans have never seen such a dense growth of vegetation except perhaps in pictures and books. You would not be able to hear anything through the glass but every one in awhile you would think that you might have seen something, a glint of an eye or a bit of fur. Grass was limited but there was mossy, slick-appearing terrain and thorny bushes. To the left, a frozen wasteland that might remind some of Kirigakure. This is a place of perpetual cold, the area is nothing but rocks and ice and the elements alone are enough to risk one's life. Both quite disparate from what you are used to. The shade and the greenery versus the absence of warmth entirely. If you press your hand against the glass of the frozen tundra you would feel the chill, it would be almost painful. Strange. This place was one of the things that made the Ranger's unique, they were trained hunters. They spent their idle time preparing as survivalists and they did not hunt "small game." Rangers were one of the few that actively sought dangerous S-Class beasts as well as creatures and monsters of dubious origin. In truth, Rangers were the Monster Hunters of Wind Country but they did too good of a job. With a lack of dangerous game, need for the Rangers as a whole diminished until the Rangers finally dispersed as a unit entirely. Their way lost and forgotten by most as families moved on. There were a few, a mere sprinkling here and there that still knew the old ways. That was how this structure was erected but Rangers are notoriously fickle and that particular Ranger had not been seen in some time. Some have come to believe that she was lost or killed while seeking game, it was a common cause of death for Rangers who live short and brutal lives.
This hallway would prove to be quite long, in fact you would walk for over a mile before you would reach your destination -- a door. No, not THE DOOR, simply a door. It would be unlocked and you would leave the glass encased hallway and enter an office. The office would be neat and rather small given the distance you traveled to reach this central hub. There would be a desk and a man sitting behind the desk, one could only assume that he was a Ranger. He would not address, you rather a young woman who would take a few steps towards you as you entered the room. She was dressed like a fifteen year old gothic boy, not a representative for one of the largest tournaments in the world. There was a simple reason for this -- she did not represent the tournament, she represented Sunagakure's interests. "Are you Oda Yatamaru?"She would wait for you to confirm who you were. Behind her you might notice a pair of Medics with a stretcher, one announcing to the other that 'we nearly lost that one... geesh, this kid was insane,' one of the Medics mused shaking his head as he lifted his side of the stretcher. 'Yeah, but he looks as tough as nails, this kid is scary,' the second commented. 'Well, we better get going with this one, no telling what the next one is going to look like.' The second would hoist up his end of the stretcher with a somber nod and they would prepare to depart from the room through a door opened for them by the gothic young woman. It was not the same door you entered.
"Excellent, sign here." She would have you a scroll. Once unfurled it would be a liability statement claiming that you are aware and affirm that you are about to enter into a dangerous situation. That death, disfigurement and even potential disability may result from participation. "I am sure they filled you in," she would announce while she waited for your signature. "Of course they wouldn't, would they?" She sighed, the project was not public yet. Well, she better explain. "You are about to enter a simulated combat experience unlike anything you have ever seen before. This will assess you in a 'safe'"</B><i></i> she made quotation marks with her fingers "...environment. You will still suffer the damage of powerful attacks, determined by the setting dial on the machine. I have you and the others set for Level 8. Yes, there are higher levels but those are intended for group combat experience and we felt that it would be unnecessary." She would press a button on the Ranger's desk and the walls would open up. There would be several doors, well more specifically 5. Each would be labeled simply: desert, grassland, forest, tundra, water.
"Pick a biome and enter when you are ready. We have added security measures to the door. Returning will be difficult to say the least. you have thirty seconds to return through the door. Do your best." She would give him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. As he enters she would add an additional query, "Do you have any next of kin, medical issues, excreta that I will need to be aware of when I---" The door would slam between you an her, trapping you inside whichever biome you have chosen to enter. She gave you the instructions -- you have 30 seconds to return through the door you just left. It sounds simple, but it truly is not. The door would hum to life,hidden gears would start to whirl as an unknown power-source empowered the massive mechanical structure.
It was go time!
<B>Intruder Targeted!
| ! |
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It is likely that it would have felt good and warm, that fire if you had a sense of temperature. The bitter winds in this tundra raged on. One could suppose that it was a logical conclusion to suit up. The Door was not deterred even if you did not appear as you previously had. A buzz could be heard from the innards of the Door, it was reassessing you. It was making an effort to determine -what- you were. Had it made a mistake?