Brewgakure
Amid the colorful canopies and the buzz of consumers there was a single establishment that stood out. It was a ten story multi-tiered building covered in lush green plants that partially obscured the black tinted windows. Over the door, partially hidden by a stack of crates left in the middle of the cement walk path was a gaudy blinking neon sign that proclaimed: Brewgakure. The beat of music that could be felt underfoot and the lit sign were the only signs that the establishment was open but the bar was always open, word of mouth had a way of getting around. Since the bar's opening night several weeks ago, Brewgakure has been a local hot spot for sailors, pirates, shoppers, merchants and ironically enough shinbobis.
The bar was rather typical, a long hardwood bar spanned the length of the establishment that was lined with a row of padded stools. There were several waist high tables with a set of stools tucked beneath although most were perpetually occupied and a few booths in the back of the bar where the lights were let down real low. Often live music or entertainment played on the stage, however that was not what made Brewgakure remotely interesting, rather it was the "authentic shinobi experience" that they offered. The wait staff were all "shinobis" who specialized in stealth, dramatic displays of "shinobi magic" and "combat." Owned by the renowned entrepreneur and philanthropist, Aburabuta Hirotomi the bar opened the week of the international shinobi examination and has drawn quite the crowd naturally but perhaps to add to their 'authentic nature' they have an offer for shinobis -- perform for 10 minutes, get free drinks for the night.
The shinobis have indeed heard his call, many arriving around first call providing a majority of the evening's entertainment while the waitstaff confound and astound their patrons with their clever use of sheets painted to resemble the walls and the floor so that they could 'disappear without a trace' and their ability to use their powerful ninjutsu to summon various strong spirits and ales for paying customers out of thin air or perhaps a false-bottom on their serving tray. Apparently a true shinobi never shares their secrets.
Aburabuta Hirotomi
The Businessman
Establishment owner, he was a well-dressed man quietly sat down in a booth at the back of the club. He seemed to have no interest in the bright lights, the music or the people gyrating to the rhythm. He laid the white napkin on his lap and ordered a bottle of wine, an expensive... the most expensive bottle of white. He seemed uninterested in small talk as he handed the waiter a folded bill wordlessly and waved him off, not even allowing the waiter to uncork and pour him a drink but the waiter left the corkscrew behind. Buried to its neck in the cork, with ease and a sudden *pop* the bottle was opened. The man sniffed the cork, taking in the fruity bouquet before he poured himself a glass of the golden liquid.
He was waiting for someone. Well, a few in fact. Messages were disseminated throughout the 'civilian' world. He was looking for shinobi representatives in the upcoming World Martial Arts Tournament. there was much to be gained, not simply prestige but interest in not only their skills but in their communities'. He did not want one of the Great Nations to win. Goodness no! He saw this as a business oppertunity, an investment. His people found your people. You piqued his interest. He just needed to see if you were as worth-while as they said.
Amid the colorful canopies and the buzz of consumers there was a single establishment that stood out. It was a ten story multi-tiered building covered in lush green plants that partially obscured the black tinted windows. Over the door, partially hidden by a stack of crates left in the middle of the cement walk path was a gaudy blinking neon sign that proclaimed: Brewgakure. The beat of music that could be felt underfoot and the lit sign were the only signs that the establishment was open but the bar was always open, word of mouth had a way of getting around. Since the bar's opening night several weeks ago, Brewgakure has been a local hot spot for sailors, pirates, shoppers, merchants and ironically enough shinbobis.
The bar was rather typical, a long hardwood bar spanned the length of the establishment that was lined with a row of padded stools. There were several waist high tables with a set of stools tucked beneath although most were perpetually occupied and a few booths in the back of the bar where the lights were let down real low. Often live music or entertainment played on the stage, however that was not what made Brewgakure remotely interesting, rather it was the "authentic shinobi experience" that they offered. The wait staff were all "shinobis" who specialized in stealth, dramatic displays of "shinobi magic" and "combat." Owned by the renowned entrepreneur and philanthropist, Aburabuta Hirotomi the bar opened the week of the international shinobi examination and has drawn quite the crowd naturally but perhaps to add to their 'authentic nature' they have an offer for shinobis -- perform for 10 minutes, get free drinks for the night.
The shinobis have indeed heard his call, many arriving around first call providing a majority of the evening's entertainment while the waitstaff confound and astound their patrons with their clever use of sheets painted to resemble the walls and the floor so that they could 'disappear without a trace' and their ability to use their powerful ninjutsu to summon various strong spirits and ales for paying customers out of thin air or perhaps a false-bottom on their serving tray. Apparently a true shinobi never shares their secrets.
Aburabuta Hirotomi
The Businessman
Establishment owner, he was a well-dressed man quietly sat down in a booth at the back of the club. He seemed to have no interest in the bright lights, the music or the people gyrating to the rhythm. He laid the white napkin on his lap and ordered a bottle of wine, an expensive... the most expensive bottle of white. He seemed uninterested in small talk as he handed the waiter a folded bill wordlessly and waved him off, not even allowing the waiter to uncork and pour him a drink but the waiter left the corkscrew behind. Buried to its neck in the cork, with ease and a sudden *pop* the bottle was opened. The man sniffed the cork, taking in the fruity bouquet before he poured himself a glass of the golden liquid.
A Martial Arts Tournament to prove the best in the world approaches and while the world might have forgotten this military hovel in this frozen wasteland I have not. In my possession is three wildcards. Find me in Soons Haven in wind Country if you wish to acquire one. Prove your strength and your valor and fame will be yours!
-- Aburabuta Hirotomi
He was waiting for someone. Well, a few in fact. Messages were disseminated throughout the 'civilian' world. He was looking for shinobi representatives in the upcoming World Martial Arts Tournament. there was much to be gained, not simply prestige but interest in not only their skills but in their communities'. He did not want one of the Great Nations to win. Goodness no! He saw this as a business oppertunity, an investment. His people found your people. You piqued his interest. He just needed to see if you were as worth-while as they said.