[spoilername="Mission Contract"]
Aladdin Arrives.
Mission Rank: E
Mission Type: Solo Self Modded
Required Participants: Self
Client: Konoha Veteran's Organization (KVO)
Restrictions: Solo Only
Mission Premise:After a successful day of work for the organization, they have sent for Nyura to assist them once again. This time they request for her to meet an older gentleman from a nearby villa who has brought a cart worth of supplies. It's her duty to escort said merchant across the town and to the marketplace so he may reserve a stall and peddle his wares for the day; therefore she'll have to be getting up early!
Important: Self-modded missions may be done twice in a week, however the second mission done yields half normal rewards. Players may also perform one mission with 2x the word count in order to gain the rewards of having done two missions. This still only yields half rewards for the second mission.</COLOR><i></i>[/spoilername]
It was hardly morning and Konoha was bustling. Beneath the pall of hazy clouds which hovered over the town, blurring the rooftops and filtering the sun to a degree, its narrow streets and alleyways were alive with feverish activities. Wake up—
Her eyes dabbed their way open, slowly easing into the world. The light flooded into her room and she felt the rising sensation of responsibility clawing at her conscience. Rolling her head from side to side against the plush pillow beneath her, she’d send her fists downward against the sheets in what seemed like an irrational rage. Sitting up and rising to her feet in one motion she’d survey her flat with an unimpressed expression, before striding towards the nearby countertop. Letting out a few heavy breaths, she’d murmur under her breath. ”Wake up…”
Her morning consisted of the usual routine, brushing her teeth after a quick meal and getting dressed. This time her breakfast was rushed; after all she was tasked to escort a foreign merchant bright and early to the marketplace. If he didn’t get a stall, there might be repercussions, either immediate from the trader in question or later from the council inside the Village of the Hidden Leaf. Either way, there was no way she was going to be late!
Tugging open her door, sliding through the gap, and slamming it shut within one motion, Nyura left her apartment. Starting up the narrow street in which she lived with a steady pace, she’d only peer back to ensure her door was not ajar before picking up her speed to a jog and then to a light run with her destination crystal clear in her mind. She had to get to the Phoenix Gate, preferably before her client arrived as to ensure she spoke with the men at the booth about what all was involved in reserving a stall for the man in question.
There was ill-tempered haggling and bartering; bards played music, men with small carts called out unmissable baragins, beggars made their pitiful demands from darker, shadowy corners -- though there were few who paused to place coins in their hats. Rushing this way and that, everyone was far too wrapped up in their own concerns to spare a thought for anyone else. Nyura slowed up for a moment, peering down at wretched man who seemed lithe and malnourished. A shaky arm held out in her direction, though his gaze was cast upon the floor, revealing his matted hair. Digging a hand into her pocket, she’d toss a few coins in and continue off down the road.
Upon her arrival at the Gate she was greeted by a very eccentric gentleman; the very contrast of the man she had spared yen to earlier. An irate tone was present in his gravelly voice, and to say the greeting was gentlemanly would be a lie. “Well about damn time; at this rate I should have just stayed at The Desert Crown in Sungakure!” He was flustered and waved his hands with a unique animation she hadn’t seen before. Each word was accompanied by a hand gesture and after noticing this she couldn’t help but fixate on it.
“I appologize…” she’d say, trailing off for a moment as she unraveled her scroll neatly to locate his name, saying it with an inquisitive tone.
“…Aladdin-sama?” Nyura took in a breath through her nose, nostrils flaring, as she’d collapse the scroll back down into her hand to tuck it away in her bag. This man was definitely something, hopefully he’d make this prompt. But of course, there was labor involved. The pompous man cast a flat hand towards the cart, promptly waving it as to tell her to carry the goods. Grunting quietly, she’d give a short bow in his direction out of respect to her village before taking up the mantle of the mule.
“Getting from objective to objective as quickly as possible, being first to nail a deal, obtaining the best price while under cutting your competitors-- that was what succeeding in the shinobi world was all about. You needed nerves of steel and eyes in the back of your head to survive; you had to learn to smile even as you were stabbing someone else in the back. It was a rough life, a tough expereince, and a ruthless career. It was exhilerating…” he ranted on and on as they continued along the road, in which seemed to gradually get steeper and steeper the more he spoke.
Nyura hurried up from the gates and through the jostling street to the marketplace, alongside the jabbering Aladdin. Not because she was in any particular hurry herself, but because the frenzied atmosphere was contagious. She had learned the hard way that those who don't adjust to the breakneck pace of the lifestyle were liable to get knocked down and trampled both literally and metaphorically.
Nyura felt uncomfortably hot. The sun was just cresting over the rocky terrain that bordered the village proper, despite being obscured by a series of low hanging clouds. There was hardly a lick of wind and, as Nyura weaved her way past several shops, stands and stalls, a bewildering aroma assaulted her nostrils, a plethora of them at once. Stale gin, pungent cheeses, ripe produce and boiling ramen, honeyed pork and fresh brewed coffee . . .
The bold smell of coffee beans set her mind at ease, as it often did, back to her days at the academy. Every night she had indulged in several cups and often could not fall to sleep; this led to her endless studying and reading until the early hours of the morning, and a restless day at school afterward. How long ago that seemed, and to think she hadn't ventured from the village much in her life perplexed her. Aladdin had shone light on the culture of the various clans and villages surrounding her country,
As they continued across the marketplace, the aromas of the fresh brew gradually dissipated, and was replaced with a different smell that brought upon different memories altogether. It was the unmistakable scent of hot iron, and was accompanied by the loud clangs of a hammer against anvil. Staying within close proximity of the hefty gentleman, her vision became fixated upon the small smithy. A longing gaze was set upon the red hot ore, being shaped into an instrument of destruction. It appeared to be a shuriken, but she never would get the chance to confirm.
Eventually they’d arrive at the main gathering; the loud goulash of voices seemed to get ever louder as if each member of the crowd were trying to outdo the other. Aladdin took point and hobbled his way over to what appeared to be a soapbox and a counter next to one another, with the miniature podium being centered behind the wooden barrier in which he’d lay his goods. “Go on! Start unpacking!” he’d bellow out at her, a stern gaze to accompany it. Or she’d lay his goods… Pulling the cart up another few feet to ensure it was within optimal reach and not in the way of passing villagers, she’d begin to pull the various crates and boxes down and to the ground beside him. Being careful not to damage whatever may lie inside, she’d maneuver the larger wooden crates into a foundation, to soon after stack the small cardboard boxes atop them.
Finishing up with a short brush of her hands she’d look to her client and give a short bow in his direction, one that he did not acknowledge as he was otherwise engaged in banter with several customers already lining up for his exotic wares. Shifting backwards and away from the scene before heading back through the cramped streets towards her home, she’d let out a content sigh of relief. That had been interesting…
Aladdin Arrives.
Mission Rank: E
Mission Type: Solo Self Modded
Required Participants: Self
Client: Konoha Veteran's Organization (KVO)
Restrictions: Solo Only
Mission Premise:After a successful day of work for the organization, they have sent for Nyura to assist them once again. This time they request for her to meet an older gentleman from a nearby villa who has brought a cart worth of supplies. It's her duty to escort said merchant across the town and to the marketplace so he may reserve a stall and peddle his wares for the day; therefore she'll have to be getting up early!
Important: Self-modded missions may be done twice in a week, however the second mission done yields half normal rewards. Players may also perform one mission with 2x the word count in order to gain the rewards of having done two missions. This still only yields half rewards for the second mission.</COLOR><i></i>
— Ambient Music
Total Word Count: 1316
Total Word Count: 1316
It was hardly morning and Konoha was bustling. Beneath the pall of hazy clouds which hovered over the town, blurring the rooftops and filtering the sun to a degree, its narrow streets and alleyways were alive with feverish activities. Wake up—Her eyes dabbed their way open, slowly easing into the world. The light flooded into her room and she felt the rising sensation of responsibility clawing at her conscience. Rolling her head from side to side against the plush pillow beneath her, she’d send her fists downward against the sheets in what seemed like an irrational rage. Sitting up and rising to her feet in one motion she’d survey her flat with an unimpressed expression, before striding towards the nearby countertop. Letting out a few heavy breaths, she’d murmur under her breath. ”Wake up…”
Her morning consisted of the usual routine, brushing her teeth after a quick meal and getting dressed. This time her breakfast was rushed; after all she was tasked to escort a foreign merchant bright and early to the marketplace. If he didn’t get a stall, there might be repercussions, either immediate from the trader in question or later from the council inside the Village of the Hidden Leaf. Either way, there was no way she was going to be late!
Tugging open her door, sliding through the gap, and slamming it shut within one motion, Nyura left her apartment. Starting up the narrow street in which she lived with a steady pace, she’d only peer back to ensure her door was not ajar before picking up her speed to a jog and then to a light run with her destination crystal clear in her mind. She had to get to the Phoenix Gate, preferably before her client arrived as to ensure she spoke with the men at the booth about what all was involved in reserving a stall for the man in question.
There was ill-tempered haggling and bartering; bards played music, men with small carts called out unmissable baragins, beggars made their pitiful demands from darker, shadowy corners -- though there were few who paused to place coins in their hats. Rushing this way and that, everyone was far too wrapped up in their own concerns to spare a thought for anyone else. Nyura slowed up for a moment, peering down at wretched man who seemed lithe and malnourished. A shaky arm held out in her direction, though his gaze was cast upon the floor, revealing his matted hair. Digging a hand into her pocket, she’d toss a few coins in and continue off down the road.
Upon her arrival at the Gate she was greeted by a very eccentric gentleman; the very contrast of the man she had spared yen to earlier. An irate tone was present in his gravelly voice, and to say the greeting was gentlemanly would be a lie. “Well about damn time; at this rate I should have just stayed at The Desert Crown in Sungakure!” He was flustered and waved his hands with a unique animation she hadn’t seen before. Each word was accompanied by a hand gesture and after noticing this she couldn’t help but fixate on it.
“I appologize…” she’d say, trailing off for a moment as she unraveled her scroll neatly to locate his name, saying it with an inquisitive tone.“…Aladdin-sama?” Nyura took in a breath through her nose, nostrils flaring, as she’d collapse the scroll back down into her hand to tuck it away in her bag. This man was definitely something, hopefully he’d make this prompt. But of course, there was labor involved. The pompous man cast a flat hand towards the cart, promptly waving it as to tell her to carry the goods. Grunting quietly, she’d give a short bow in his direction out of respect to her village before taking up the mantle of the mule.
“Getting from objective to objective as quickly as possible, being first to nail a deal, obtaining the best price while under cutting your competitors-- that was what succeeding in the shinobi world was all about. You needed nerves of steel and eyes in the back of your head to survive; you had to learn to smile even as you were stabbing someone else in the back. It was a rough life, a tough expereince, and a ruthless career. It was exhilerating…” he ranted on and on as they continued along the road, in which seemed to gradually get steeper and steeper the more he spoke.
Nyura hurried up from the gates and through the jostling street to the marketplace, alongside the jabbering Aladdin. Not because she was in any particular hurry herself, but because the frenzied atmosphere was contagious. She had learned the hard way that those who don't adjust to the breakneck pace of the lifestyle were liable to get knocked down and trampled both literally and metaphorically.
Nyura felt uncomfortably hot. The sun was just cresting over the rocky terrain that bordered the village proper, despite being obscured by a series of low hanging clouds. There was hardly a lick of wind and, as Nyura weaved her way past several shops, stands and stalls, a bewildering aroma assaulted her nostrils, a plethora of them at once. Stale gin, pungent cheeses, ripe produce and boiling ramen, honeyed pork and fresh brewed coffee . . .
The bold smell of coffee beans set her mind at ease, as it often did, back to her days at the academy. Every night she had indulged in several cups and often could not fall to sleep; this led to her endless studying and reading until the early hours of the morning, and a restless day at school afterward. How long ago that seemed, and to think she hadn't ventured from the village much in her life perplexed her. Aladdin had shone light on the culture of the various clans and villages surrounding her country, and for this she was grateful...
As they continued across the marketplace, the aromas of the fresh brew gradually dissipated, and was replaced with a different smell that brought upon different memories altogether. It was the unmistakable scent of hot iron, and was accompanied by the loud clangs of a hammer against anvil. Staying within close proximity of the hefty gentleman, her vision became fixated upon the small smithy. A longing gaze was set upon the red hot ore, being shaped into an instrument of destruction. It appeared to be a shuriken, but she never would get the chance to confirm.
Eventually they’d arrive at the main gathering; the loud goulash of voices seemed to get ever louder as if each member of the crowd were trying to outdo the other. Aladdin took point and hobbled his way over to what appeared to be a soapbox and a counter next to one another, with the miniature podium being centered behind the wooden barrier in which he’d lay his goods. “Go on! Start unpacking!” he’d bellow out at her, a stern gaze to accompany it. Or she’d lay his goods… Pulling the cart up another few feet to ensure it was within optimal reach and not in the way of passing villagers, she’d begin to pull the various crates and boxes down and to the ground beside him. Being careful not to damage whatever may lie inside, she’d maneuver the larger wooden crates into a foundation, to soon after stack the small cardboard boxes atop them.
Finishing up with a short brush of her hands she’d look to her client and give a short bow in his direction, one that he did not acknowledge as he was otherwise engaged in banter with several customers already lining up for his exotic wares. Shifting backwards and away from the scene before heading back through the cramped streets towards her home, she’d let out a content sigh of relief. That had been interesting…
<COLOR color="#008000">[MFT]