Ninpocho Chronicles is a fantasy setting storyline set in the World of Ninjas where feudal daimyo, clans and ninja villages all wage war on each other for money, glory or for a common goal.

Each ninja starts from the bottom and start their training as an Academy Student. From there they develop abilities akin to that of demigods as they grow in age and experience.

Along the way they gain new friends (or enemies), take on jobs and complete contracts and missions for their respective villages where their training and skill will be tested to their limits.

The sky is the limit as the blank page you see before you can be filled with countless of adventures with your character in the game.

This is Ninpocho Chronicles.

Private Foundation of Teamwork (Requesting Raikage)

Momo

New Member
Jan 18, 2021
56
Yen
272,490
ASP
119
Kill Switch
No
OOC Rank
A-Rank
BIG HAT MOMO
1631182683431.jpegMomo waited patiently in the waiting area. It’s been awhile since she last saw this place. By awhile I mean years. The last time she sat in this lobby was when she was patiently waiting for the repercussions of assaulting a senior ranked shinobi. He deserved it and such a repercussion was both worth it and well earned. She regretted nothing of those days. Now times were different. Momo was an established Chunnin doing missions among other big things. She even earned herself a bit of a reputation as both a shinobi and a musician. Around the village, people knew her as “Big Hat Momo” As she wore a big red hat with a skulls face. It was probably because Momo was easily identifiable that even people she’d never met knew her as Big Hat Momo. Her eccentric appearance and personality was hard to forget. And even harder to miss. Even now as she waited in the lobby, she could see the Kage’s secretary starring as Momo flipped her surf green-colored Duesenberg Starplayer II guitar around her neck like a hot shot rock star. Momo would give her a wink before carrying on as normal or rather Momo’s normal. Reaching into her blouse, Momo would pull out a slightly crumbled letter with a broken seal. It was what brought her here this day. It was a summons from headquarters requesting her presence. Apparently the Raikage wished to have word with her and a few others. Maybe it had something to do with the recent invasion or maybe it was PR related. “Maybe the Raikage wants a personal concert? Or to start a national band? Or maybe the late night noise complaints are catching up to me ho ho!” Whichever the case, Momo waited patiently to be called in, wondering to herself if the Raikage was a music lover.

[mft]
[Requesting Horigome Sukejuro, Koga Akane, Raikage]
 

Koga Akane

New Member
Aug 30, 2021
8
Yen
28,700
ASP
90
Kill Switch
No
“Akaaaaneee! Get up! You have mail!” A loud voice echoed throughout the house. The holler made its way into her bedroom that soon followed with groans of exhaustion. The covers were pulled over her head but another scream scared the life out of Akane and in seconds she was up. Brown hair in a mess and bags under her eyes Akane gently grabbed the letter from her mom's hand and opened it. The contents visibly shook her. Akane squinted her eyes in suspicion while her mother did the same and looked at each other. “D-did they find out?” Akane whispered. “How could they? We left no trail and we’re not attempting to be enemies.” Her mother said, speaking truthfully behind her words. “Regardless, you’ll have to go to the Raikage’s tower. Go get ready.” Shooing her away with a pale hand.

After an hour Akane stepped out of her home onto the streets of Kumo. A welcome breeze rolled past her, shifting her traditional dark blue school uniform in the wind. Another hour was spent wandering through the streets looking for the damn building. The unsavory alleyways were avoided but even then the nicer residences lacked people or guards. “Can’t get anywhere without signage or even someone to ask!” A sigh of annoyance escaped her lips while a sign caught her attention. It stated that this was the building that the Raikage remained in. In disbelief she looked side to side, wondering how many times she walked past it. Up the stairs to the secretary Akane handed over the letter, with a moment for verification she was allowed entry further into the building. Personnel happily directed her to the waiting room and as the door opened she caught a glimpse of a familiar face.

There had been posters littered about the streets of an iconic hat. “Oh man! Big Hat Momo! What are you doing here! Whoaaa!” Dramatically Akane slid over to the woman with the skull hat with her eyes twinkling. “I saw you on social media! Look!” Her hand dug into her pocket to pull out her smart phone with a little bunny trinket hanging off it. Scrolling through her pictures she pulled up a video of Momo’s small performance and showed it to her. “Your songs are amazing! Wait.. Did you get a letter in the mail too?” Partially invading her space Akane got lost in thought while talking to the woman. Completely forgetting the seriousness of her past and it’s connection with Kumo today.

[Topic Entered]
 
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Horigome Sukejuro

New Member
Jan 6, 2013
104
Yen
202,450
ASP
105
Kill Switch
No
Sun or Moon, it seemed that the time of day made no different on his manic moods. Meandering footfalls proceeded the figure as they made their way to a most unprecedented summon that he could hardly expect, given his proclivity toward the immense neglect of certain social aspects of his life. That wasn’t to say he was surprised to be approached, via written notification, pulling the scroll from a repurposed sort of hole in one of the exterior walls of his compound, it was rather touching that the Raikage would occasionally send him something, even if by far he was hardly the most efficient shinobi in the village. While appreciative, he mostly skimmed through the modest document skimmed it for the most relevant details, ergo why it concerned him.



However even that somewhat failed him as the excitement of…mingling truly made his heart sing~, but why? Was the crushing subpar existence focusing solely on survival making him long for the world of the living once again? Hurriedly, he made his way with all his most exquisite tools of cutting, ripping, mutilation and war, oh it had been so long since…he got a chance to apply the material designs in a a live trial type environment! It had been so long since…he had saw traitors and foes wail in vain to the cruel machinations he devised in a vaccum devoid of human warmth.



As the young adult who had survived the worst life could possibly throw at him without snuffing the light in his heart and soul. He nontheless felt a brief pause, rapid giddy running strides as he came across crude stone effigies of the lost. Dead or gone from one instance or another, people that…well he would have to revisit the Garden of the Lost at sometime soon, for now he refused to let them drag him down from the esteemed commandant of the glorious Raikage!



-

--
Where?: The Raikage tower
When?: Now! (-Ish)
Why?: Beats me!
How?: Walking mostly.

Heavy and by all counts, most likely scavenged or poorly sewn and crafted by hand by a hand that could have cared less. Black oversized hooded cape gave the masked stranger the look of a ghastly carrion bird as he swept in with umbral wisps and folds as black as the moonless night, opaque blues of glass lenses fixed firmly into the eye sockets of an abstract and rather surreal skullish ‘face’ like a grave horror one might expect to find in the folklore tales as a distinct possibility to happen upon in an ill fated trip to the graveyard at night. Truth
Was, when he removed himself so far from the fundamental baseline of his humanity, it was the closest he could feel comfort in his own skin. Understanding such things about himself had oft been a a rather mentally tumultuous time though knowing these inner truths hadn’t done anything to heal. These were just ‘ghosts’ of pain, introspective noise that served to make it only the easier to identify with a ephemeral astral being with little presence or immediate control on anything. From the moment he entered the Torre Celeste, such noise of his thoughts became quiet like a sepulchers where naught a shred of life could be found, his heart was locked in a cage as he idly attended to his well oiled claws, a pair of complex razors controlled by specific motion to slide and retract like a pair of monstrous and savage extremities from beings from beyond. This was his only pride, weapons he thought. Before he knew it, he had made his way to the mustering area where two others could be found.

People he neither recognized nor heard about, not that he would have the patience or consideration to understand why either of them were important in any exceptional capacity, save that they were allied through their connection to this land he had lived in, and that he would sacrifice himself for either despite knowing neither. This however, really threw a wrench into the idyllic soundlessness of his thoughts. Expecting to be reprimanded, issued an order, he hadn’t thought he would be in such close proximity of strangers which caused an uncertain amount of excitement and nervousness as he spread and extended both of his fingers as the blades unlocked, sliding into the heavy metal and leather blade sheaths built into each elaborate wrist gauntlet before tightly curling his fingers until a series of clicks, like the cracking of knuckles, signaled each lock was now properly in place.

Now was time for the most difficult thing in the world, balancing a childlike desire for acceptance and desire to feel human with the phobias and anxieties that a lifetime of neglect and trauma had borne. As his stomach started to twist, an uncomfortable pit of discomfort growing he would decide to introduce “My, I hadn’t expected to see others here. What a…pleasant surprise, yes” He really spoke generally, not to anyone in particular. Admittedly though, he was rather interested in that…hat. It was quite unusual compared to the usual fare with which others carried themselves. With quick motions he darted his attention to both of them “Eh? I’m not late am I~?” He’d ask, a sweet, energetic canter to his voice hiding a world of insecurities and unhealthy thought patterns which could have been seen as the most defining aspect of his entire career.

[mft]
 
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