Welcome to Shinobi Desolation, an AU post Naruto role-play forum community. We pride ourselves in bringing you a decent place to role-play at in a drama free environment with no word limits. This forum is composed of the main five villages along side five minor ones, with places where you can develop the characters of your dreams. We pride ourselves in our member base and we hope we can bring you the place you can role-play at at your heart's content. In case you need any help please don't hesitate to ask our friendly staff for the help. We hope to see you again!
After the Fourth Great Shinobi World War ended, the world was experiencing a time of peace. The villages for once were able to live in relative harmony with one another as they rebuilt, and for once, all seemed to be well. The kage were able to live peaceful lives and soon began retiring, passing on the baton to the next generations. That is until an unknown virus infects the northern coast. The first to fall is the once powerful Raikage, Ay. While many thought this virus was a simple mutation of what may have well been the flu, no one would ever think of the destruction it would cause. Especially when it infected a certain Uzumaki Naruto.
With his death came the malice; with the malice came the destruction; with the destruction came the shinobi' revolt; and with the revolt came the sacrifices. The Bijuu became filled with malice that they sought to destroy the world. Shinobi sought a way to fight them and once again capture each of the Bijuu. Time passed, and a plan was devised. The Jinchuuriki would be sacrificed for the greater good of the world, and with the deaths of nine individuals, an uneasy peace began.
As time continued, the villages began to truly restructure. In a peace that would last 80 years after the downfall of the Bijuu, the world would see the creation of a great many things. Technology was beginning to take root and before long the blossoms that grew from the tree of the advanced mind would bear fruit. A many great things came to be. A railroad between the vast many nations. Mechanical limbs to replace lost ones. Radios that could reach between villages. Everything seemed to be becoming less reliant on the shinobi. Only the need for them never truly vanished. As with the growth of time, also continued the growth of malice.
The Mist had its snowfalls, but it was nothing like this.
From what seemed to be mere moments ago, when the rogue strolled across hard stone roads and grass-dotted cliffsides, the world would have whirled into a winter wonderland--although in the case of Sato, it was more like a nightmare. Perhaps it was his kind's susceptible composition, or maybe it was the biting of the chilling air, but the rogue could not stand the snow-blanketed tundra of this country.
This was named the Land of Iron. He saw very little iron.
Who knew the samurai were capable of such deception.
But regardless of the weather, the rogue trekked onward, heavy footsteps within powdery snow marking his path through its white pillowy sheets. Various trees were scattered here and there, though none so close as to consider them a collective forest. Such a place, as he had decided, was the last refuge he would be seeking just about now, especially considering the recent events of his travels.
He had come this far since his encounter with that thing within his previous home, after all, and Sato was certainly not going to return there anytime soon.
No, instead, he sought shelter within the confines of the samurai's country, a place that most shinobi dare not enter. These sword-wielding peoples may not have the variability of the shinobi way in terms of ability, but they were fierce nonetheless. Tales often told of their long lasting rivalry with the world's ninja, as the honorable warriors faced against deceitful and shadowy assassins with intent of superiority.
It was safe to assume were he found to be a shinobi, Sato would not be treated with much hospitality, if any at all.
But the use of chakra was said to be simplistic in the hands of these sword-wielding warriors, and blades often failed to perform when engaging the Hozuki; in truth, he didn't see these amateurs as anything of a threat so long as his guard remained heightened. No, trouble would have to travel quite a long way in order to reach Sato, it seemed.
"Ah-chnn," he sneezed, feeling the mucus solidify and clink from his nostrils in the freezing air. A frosted sleeve would wipe the rest away as the swordsman pressed onward, not willing to stop despite the stinging wind.
