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Mission name: Old Mcdonald had a ai oh
Mission rank: D
Objective: Help the farm
Location: Land of fire, outskirts of konoha
Reward: 70 ryo
Mission description: A farm(s) needs help on getting things back together, so help them manage the daily task as well as repair.
Mission details: When you get there you will either come across the farmer or the farmer will find you, the farm’s problems are up to you. Was it harmed by a storm? Attacked by bandits weeks ago? Or just your usual funding issues? You can decide to help repair and do the daily chores on the farm and decide the outcome of the farm.
A lone figure walked a nary-loamy path from the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Alone, yes: he was not accompanied by any being, human nor beast. But he was not lonely. No, he couldn't be, not since he started living like he did. All of nature was part of his own consciousness at this point. Well, "all" was a big word. "All of nature within a certain area around him" was probably more accurate. It really didn't matter, at this point. He was him-self, whoever that happened to be. Jagi never really paid attention to the details that did not reside in the material world. Like the rock.

Rock...? His old friend, yet an arch-rival of times past none the less. He knew it wasn't the same rock as the other specimen (arguably many different specimens), but he half-jokingly and half-to-himself shook his fist at the inches-wide stone that did nothing but sit where it always had, anchored beneath the ground. Such a good thing, this natural world was: nothing ever meant you true ill. There was always another reason for an animal to be hostile towards you, always a reason for the patch of ground you decided to sit down on to be wet. Malcontent was a human invention, and it was one of the reasons Jagi was a little bit glad that he had a reprieve from civilization, living out in the wilds like he did. Now, that was never to say that he didn't miss the other parts of human interaction, like gladness and even jocular times, but he could get the former of those two, in a sort of way, even by helping animals.

Jagi, of course, didn't need any more human interaction for a good long while now. He had actually worn himself out on it....staying in the hot springs for literally 18 hours had both sucked the moisture out of his body and his enthusiasm for seeing others of his ilk out of his mind. His walking through the gates of that place, Konoha-gakure no Sato, was not a sad or loathsome time for him. Neither was it happy, of course, as he never did hold a resentment for the village itself or the people inside it. After all, it was his own decision to stay in-side that hot spring for such a dreadfully long time. It was his fault, but neither did he weigh any blame on himself. This sort of thought process was how Jagi got on, normally. By blaming neither himself, his surroundings, nor the other people in the world, he could continue living without the poison of hate flowing through him out to the universe, nor could it touch him from without.

He had made it from the rather thick forest he had been trotting through. The vines and roots had presented the same sorts of troubles that The Rock had, but they hindered him little. Scrapes and bruises, on him, for some reason healed easier than on others. At least the minor stuff, anyhow. Jagi sometimes wondered if he'd ever learned the reason that such a small boon was gifted to him by....well, whoever ran this whole show. The verdant foliage quite abruptly gave way to plains. He didn't think that a place home to the Village Hiding-In-Tree-Leaves could have such a wide, open expanse....the sun shone widely and brightly on the endless fields that expanded beyond that Jagi's field of vision. Heh. Field. Field. His own internal joking and pun-inducing aside, Jagi kept his pace fairly steady; his gait had changed since he had been around those ninja-folk. His normal walking was now his shoulders swaying with his hips, to reduce both the stress on his body whilst walking and his sound on the ground. It was good for him, which was his foremost concern; he really had no interest at this point in hiding from anyone.

Why would he? He was nobody.


600/600, mission WC complete. 80 WC remaining, objective yet to be completed.



Nobody, perhaps, but even someone who didn't exist was able to get things done. Like this little paper he had picked up at the mission outpost....sure, he wasn't a Konoha-nin, but the wind had blown the request off of the board! He could have easily put it back, but why not just do it himself and save someone else the trouble? It wasn't like it was a trouble to anyone. There were plenty of jobs to do that hadn't been taken yet....and for some reason these Konoha-nin were too antsy for "action". But perhaps that was just the opinion of a small-town boy that wanted nothing but to help people any way he could. Just himself.

He took a moment from his own thoughts, 'pausing' them, so to speak, to take in what was around him. The knee-high grasses swayed with the gentle spring winds. The clouds, nimbus and cirrus, stratus nary in sight, idled in their skyward stances, the soft wind below evidence of calm even above. The breeze, as he stared into it, felt more uplifting than one might have guessed. The scent of this pure, yet petty gale was of a far-off lakeside or beach, refreshing to his nasal palate yet not very discernible in itself as belonging to something. A tingly-good feeling shot up the young one's back as he closed his eyes in pure revelry.

Even if that meant helping the slightly elderly with menial tasks....someone had to, yeah? Ninja were supposed to take contracts for everything, and as if he could compare himself to a Genin, these were the types that could be entrusted to them. On his various jaunts and trips through the Konoha marketplace, he saw many a young soul wearing that Hitai-Ate of the Leaf doing nothing more than grumbling about how nothing exciting happened. As if excitement was the opposite of peace. The young man let out a sigh at this hypothetical revelation, as he paced along the path yet. It was a long way to the farm, but he was fit enough; weeks of hiking and in-practice survival training had toughened him up at least a little bit.

The plains in this area yellowed and even shortened a bit into a sort of savanna; was he nearing to the border of Wind Country? Just looking around made him feel dry, and the gust blowing over naught but arid land made him want to sneeze; the verdant grasses that had graced the area nearer to the Hidden Leaf were nowhere in sight....he must have been pretty absorbed in what he was thinking about to go this far without noticing. Sometimes he hated thinking, like distracted him from some of the things that were important, like his surroundings, nature. Sometimes even people were important. People like him, even.

He needed a break....the sun's current position told him that he'd been trekking for at least six hours straight. Granted, a little under half of that was in the shade of a forest, but still...his legs were nowhere near close to giving out, but he deserved a little reprieve for his efforts here-to-fore, yeah? He found a....reasonably soft patch of loam to sit on, since he would rather not sit on the already-dying grasses in the area. Sure, his back-side would get a little scuffed or dirty, but such was to be expected on a non-short trip like this. (It wasn't long, a day or more was long.) He took out his trusty water-skin, and let the comparatively cool liquid trickle into his mouth. With a sigh of satisfaction, he was done with his short rest, and stood up promptly to continue towards his destination. The path widened, and he observed a plethora of horse-hoof-marks littering the ground, in two ways primarily. It made basic sense, trained horses usually followed directions enough not to make a fuss. It saddened him a little, though, to think of animals simply being servitors to humans. He supposed he'd be able to empathize with them, a little, after this bout of mission-duties....wouldn't he be simply serving another human, doing all this work?

The now three-meters-wide path served as a guide for----wait, what?

This was a ghost town.

740/820 training WC.



And Jagi didn't believe too deeply in ghosts. Maybe it was his naturalistic upbringing, or perhaps it had something to do with the fact that nothing supernatural ever happened when he was a child, so there was never anything to be explained away by ghosts. He had some sense of respect for the dead, and even believed in reincarnation, of a sort. But he never thought ghosts existed. It wasn't that kind of ghost town. Everyone was just....gone. Nothing. Not a sound, and certainly no signs of human footprints. He wondered, then, what was going on with those horse-tracks he saw just before....had someone come through recently? It was probably just a mistake, or a way to keep track of where they were going; even a deserted settlement is a good landmark.

The first thing he thought of was to knock on the door of a house. Who was he to decide if this place was actually abandoned or not? Not very much of a person. Despite all he'd accomplished so far - as if surviving was an accomplishment - he hadn't grown much. Maybe physically, but not mentally. It was with a sigh that Jagi pushed open the door - unlocked, nearly unhinged - after four rounds of knocking. The house's air was stagnant, and he felt dirty just by looking around at the dust-covered things. He should have known already at this point, really. He didn't, of course, still being a little naive. He hadn't stepped into the world of the ninja. "Is anyone there?" did the young man's voice let out as the door creaked to a stop. He tread slowly and quietly, not wanting to alarm anyone. "If I could ask, do any of you know the way to the ffffffffuuuuck." Jagi didn't curse or otherwise say expletives. It just wasn't his style. This, however, caught him very off guard.

Stepping in someone's rotting face would definitely catch most people off guard. It was in Jagi's own favor that he was not on some sort of stealth mission right now. He would have blown it so far past next week that he'd have to meet himself on his twentieth birthday to slap himself. This exclamation was seriously loud. It even shocked Jagi what kind of volume he could achieve, though perhaps that was just because he was a quiet-er kind of guy. A map lay on the table next to the corpse, and although it was rather torn and wrinkled, he could make out...north. And a few dots, one of which he could make out as the Hidden Leaf's position and this little hamlet-that-once-was. Laying the bodies outside, he made shrouds out of their bedding and laid them over them. It was really all he could do. All he knew how to do, at least: it made him a little sad, that he couldn't offer any further solace to these people. If they even knew what he had tried to do for them.

He had to set off again. There was nothing to gather here, and strangely no people left in the village, even other corpses. Only those two was strange that only they were in this town that was rather large for them. The search had at least let him cool off a little in that house, and the sweat on his skin had dried. He was kind of itchy, especially with all of the dust in there. He had even almost sneezed twice, yeah....

Setting out again, the young man had no choice but to keep going. His original destination was far closer than the nearest living settlement, and certainly he was not going back to the Hidden Leaf. He could collect his pay from his employers and never have to go back there. Again, he did not hate Konohagakure, but he was damned sick of the place. He didn't know it, but Jagi was....weird. Maybe they were sick of him too.

Nary a thought of this garbage was what passed through his head as he exited the other side of the town, guided by the outlines of horses' hooves.


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