Tales of a Ninja Magician: Of Where We Come From

Tanshu's Story: He with the Eyes of God

A band of men was marching through a nasty landscape filled with downed and rotten trees and skeletons all around them. While skeletons were certainly a poor company for a traveling group of moderately armed men that was not what intimidated the group - that would have been the ground in the swampy wasteland of death. The ground everywhere was black like the eternal void of death that the place reeked off. One could not know when the ground would open, when the black dirt would become a pure sludge of lethal stench that eats one up in seconds and when it would be sharpened coal-like surface that is able to cut through shoes and legs like butter.

Many people disappeared around those parts, no one ever went to that place which was why this ragtag team of bandits had decided to settle down there and make that place their headquarters, the place where they return to after every big job to settle for their share of the loot and party until the morning. Morning, of course, was a relative term there, the clouds were always gloomy and the Sun never showed its face, sometimes the marshlands and the swamps ignited and started flaming and that made even the late nights bright but gloomy - it was literally impossible to tell when it was night and when it was day in this cruel birthplace of death itself.

The criminals advanced slowly, helping out their friend that got into trouble by getting into the black sludge up to his knees or fending off the few animals that wandered to those parts. The stench here was impossible to stand, every couple of minutes one of the bandits threw up on the black gooey dirt surface, the men literally had to keep drinking so that their constant vomiting from the stench and lack of fresh air did not kill them. This place reeked of sulfur and despite this place having its battle concluded three years ago, it still reeked of rotting human waste. Perhaps it was the flesh and bones of the curious or daring travelers that passed through this place that still kept the stench going?

"This is a bad fucking idea..." one of the men spoke up finally as he waved the stick to hit a vulture spinning around his head as his body dug deep into sludge again. He was pulled out by his friends, one of them spoke up as well, "Everything's a bad fucking idea with you. Remember when we wanted to raid that caravan near the Konohagakure gate? You said that was a bad fucking idea too." The man took off his boots and shook the black slimy dirt off of his shoe, then cursed and yelled out loud as the ground cut his feet opening up a gruesome wound. It was almost like he stepped on edges of multiple blades. "That was the WORST fucking idea, Higumo, Shoji, Mangoku, and Okumo died!" the man replied and bandaged his foot. "Details... We escaped with plenty of food and loot" someone from the group replied.

"May I remind you gents that it is because of that fucking raid that we are here, to begin with!?" the bandit spoke up as he approached the man leading the party. "Had we not raided that caravan and didn't attract the attention of ninja we wouldn't have needed to hide here, just when we took those damn bags from the cart those fuckers just started chasing us like crazy!" The man in front kept walking forward silently, he was a nasty looking fellow with a certain "cool" charm to him, he looked just like one would've imagined a bandit to look like - rag clothes, a dirty cape that looked like somebody's curtain or dirty sheet stolen from the laundry bag, a giant scar all over his face as well as an eyepatch. The man's eyes were always angry and looking cruel, always ready to incinerate anyone he sees with his eyesight alone.

The man turned around and slapped his comrade, the man fell to the ground and screamed in pain as more wounds opened up on his body after getting cut by the now rock solid ground. "Shut the fuck up, you loser! Konoha ninja ran like dirty dogs because they follow an agreement to not have any military forces in this ground ever, a group of five or more qualifies as "military force" in the agreement and they didn't want to send less than five ninja of average rank into this place. It's perfect for bandits to hide, I've no idea why no other bands ever grouped up here. This place is amazing!" the man shouted out, his voice echoed through the wasteland of death. Some people who have visited this place and lived to tell the tale had described it as "Hell on Earth" and it was quite apparent that they weren't too far off.