Ancient stonework from a time long gone held aloft a broken roof made from terracotta tile with walls that seemed unharmed by any of time’s rough hands. Explosions, earthquakes, the moss that seemed to eat its way into all of the infrastructure; none of it had dented the smooth black marble. Even dust seemed to avoid landing on the inky surface the reflected the light of two lone torches at one end of the dilapidated structure.
It had once been a church to the goddess Mother Suna - a mysterious woman who roamed the desert helping mankind get back on their feet after Primus’ Rebellion. It had been some time since the identity of Shiori had been revealed as an Ancient of the Earthen Courts, making her aid seem dubious. The religion was now niche, with the main practitioners either turning a blind eye to the goddess’ origins or being rural enough for the information to have reached them. Many of the nomadic tribes of Wind still prayed to her for safe passage, for example, but within most city-states religion around Mother Suna had all but dried up. That said, their nigh-indestructible churches still remained.
Most were being used by the rich, the elite, and those able to afford property rights within the major oases. In Sunagakure, they were mostly torn down and had the building materials repurposed into other means. Rumor even has it that many of the surface level churches went to help fortifying the wall as the black marble they were made from was mysteriously durable on even the worst of days. In the Underground, however, they still remained here and there. Most were buried beneath the rubble of terroistic attacks and Tama’s mood-swings, but Uzu knew of one that had been in his base of operations when he was “king”, down here.
Sitting in the throne he had installed himself some fifty years ago, he leaned against an armrest with his head propped up by a fist. The two torches above him were all that illuminated the old church, as it had always been, but looking out towards the rest of the destroyed building brought a sadness he could not describe. He wondered briefly if this was why he had been so mad at Tama for resurrecting him. Uzu once had it all, and this building was the center of his operations. Women, drink, food, weapons, money…he had it all. He traded it all. Down here no one dared to stand against him or his empire until Sousuke cracked down on the enterprise once Uzu had become weak from cancer. Looking out at the empty room full of broken furniture, a lurch in his stomach to remind him how much time had passed only furthered to sour his already bad mood.
After all, he had to help pull a coup now.
The orders had come from “on high,” meaning that the ex-Steward Sousuke had “called on a favor.” The two old men became fast friends despite the robotic hero having been the one who dismantled his empire; but Uzu made sure to not owe the man any favors. That quickly became impossible as his health began to ail, and then on top of that his most treasured weapons had been made by the famous blacksmith himself, with the steel known around the world as the “strongest.” It still irked him. Lifting his right mechanical arm and staring at it caused another spike of ire, knowing that Sousuke had designed it; even though it had been Tama who had customized it’s use for the assassin.
“I owe too much to this damn country…” he muttered before lowering the arm back down to tap gently against the arm rest.
He had called his two apprentices in a private way by leaving a single mark on their front door in dunestrider blood. It was draconic, and probably confusing, until a good look at the symbol would activate the ninjutsu hidden beneath to transform the blood into a message of where and when to meet. He couldn’t risk using the official ANBU channels to call them, despite being a leading member of the Black Corps. Wei’s eyes and ears where everywhere, but for the old assassin this was old hat. He assumed they would understand the message.
Both of them excelling in their duties already. Ranran had found the proof needed to start a rebellion within Sunagakure without resorting to a full blood-bath; which, in his battle-lust found quite unfortunate but the Old Council was thrilled. Akari was set up to become the next Uzumoreru Queen, which gave his daughter a rival and their dead clan an even bigger second chance at revival. Both girls had a lot of potential he couldn’t even begin to comprehend, and on their shoulders the weight of the future laid…but for now they were still his “children,” and they needed direction.
His golden eyes glowed softly in the semi-dark as he waited…
[Denizens of the abyss, from ink of blackest night, I summon thee!]
It had once been a church to the goddess Mother Suna - a mysterious woman who roamed the desert helping mankind get back on their feet after Primus’ Rebellion. It had been some time since the identity of Shiori had been revealed as an Ancient of the Earthen Courts, making her aid seem dubious. The religion was now niche, with the main practitioners either turning a blind eye to the goddess’ origins or being rural enough for the information to have reached them. Many of the nomadic tribes of Wind still prayed to her for safe passage, for example, but within most city-states religion around Mother Suna had all but dried up. That said, their nigh-indestructible churches still remained.
Most were being used by the rich, the elite, and those able to afford property rights within the major oases. In Sunagakure, they were mostly torn down and had the building materials repurposed into other means. Rumor even has it that many of the surface level churches went to help fortifying the wall as the black marble they were made from was mysteriously durable on even the worst of days. In the Underground, however, they still remained here and there. Most were buried beneath the rubble of terroistic attacks and Tama’s mood-swings, but Uzu knew of one that had been in his base of operations when he was “king”, down here.
Sitting in the throne he had installed himself some fifty years ago, he leaned against an armrest with his head propped up by a fist. The two torches above him were all that illuminated the old church, as it had always been, but looking out towards the rest of the destroyed building brought a sadness he could not describe. He wondered briefly if this was why he had been so mad at Tama for resurrecting him. Uzu once had it all, and this building was the center of his operations. Women, drink, food, weapons, money…he had it all. He traded it all. Down here no one dared to stand against him or his empire until Sousuke cracked down on the enterprise once Uzu had become weak from cancer. Looking out at the empty room full of broken furniture, a lurch in his stomach to remind him how much time had passed only furthered to sour his already bad mood.
After all, he had to help pull a coup now.
The orders had come from “on high,” meaning that the ex-Steward Sousuke had “called on a favor.” The two old men became fast friends despite the robotic hero having been the one who dismantled his empire; but Uzu made sure to not owe the man any favors. That quickly became impossible as his health began to ail, and then on top of that his most treasured weapons had been made by the famous blacksmith himself, with the steel known around the world as the “strongest.” It still irked him. Lifting his right mechanical arm and staring at it caused another spike of ire, knowing that Sousuke had designed it; even though it had been Tama who had customized it’s use for the assassin.
“I owe too much to this damn country…” he muttered before lowering the arm back down to tap gently against the arm rest.
He had called his two apprentices in a private way by leaving a single mark on their front door in dunestrider blood. It was draconic, and probably confusing, until a good look at the symbol would activate the ninjutsu hidden beneath to transform the blood into a message of where and when to meet. He couldn’t risk using the official ANBU channels to call them, despite being a leading member of the Black Corps. Wei’s eyes and ears where everywhere, but for the old assassin this was old hat. He assumed they would understand the message.
Both of them excelling in their duties already. Ranran had found the proof needed to start a rebellion within Sunagakure without resorting to a full blood-bath; which, in his battle-lust found quite unfortunate but the Old Council was thrilled. Akari was set up to become the next Uzumoreru Queen, which gave his daughter a rival and their dead clan an even bigger second chance at revival. Both girls had a lot of potential he couldn’t even begin to comprehend, and on their shoulders the weight of the future laid…but for now they were still his “children,” and they needed direction.
His golden eyes glowed softly in the semi-dark as he waited…
[Denizens of the abyss, from ink of blackest night, I summon thee!]
