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Takera finally reached a flat stretch of snowy land leading to a house in the distance. He became excited. His efforts were finally paying off. He moved in towards the shack, but the closer he got, the sooner he realized that there was an old man standing infront of the window of the house/shack. The man just stared at Takera. His grin wide like he knew something Takera didn't and wasn't going to just tell him what he wanted to know. Takera stopped and stared for a while. The look on the old man's face bothered Takera, but he shook it off and proceeded forth towards the old man's house. He knew the old man was aware of his presence, but he knocked on the door regardless. "I need to talk to you. It's important." Takera said loudly. Just then Takera smelled something odd. It wasn't strong, but it was foul. It smelled almost like garlic gone really bad. The old man's footsteps could be heard slowly making his way towards the door. The door then slowly creaked open and the old man revealed himself. "What do you want, boy? Do not waste my time." He said in cold tone of voice.

In the back of his mind Takera was almost amused by the irony that in this frozen land he'd confront someone who knew about the swords that's heart was cold like the snow around them. Takera thought about his answer to the old man's question very carefully and finally he began to speak. "I'm sure you know exactly what I'm here for, so don't act as though you know nothing. I won't just walk away from this." He said with confidence in his voice pressing at the old man. The old man sighed and looked around the landscape behind Takera. Seeing that he was alone he moved from the door way slowly. "Come inside. I'll make some tea."

Takera felt a wave of relief making it this far, but knew he had to go further to get what he was looking for. Just then it hit Takera like a sack of bricks right across the face. The house smelled horrible. The smell coming out of the front door was putrid even. At first it smelled like garlic, but soon an underlying smell of what seemed like rotting garbage surfaced. Takera tried his hardest not to show any form of displeasure from it as he walked inside and the old man closed the door. The man locked the door behind Takera. "Take a seat." The old man said to Takera as he walked over to a counter and began to make tea. Takera looked around the house briefly getting an idea for the entrances, exits, and various items in the house. Nothing looked like the sword. Takera's wishful thinking was that he might be lucky and find it displayed in the old man's house, but to his dismay, he wasn't that fortunate. He grabbed the chair next to the small table and pulled it out, taking a seat and scooting up to the table. The old man silently made the tea and Takera watched intently waiting to hear what he had to say. As the tea was almost finished, Takera noticed that the old man touched the pot of tea and steam rose from the pot. He wondered if maybe this man had an affinity for fire and managed to heat the tea himself. It would explain being able to live so proficiently even though he was so isolated from the world. How long had he been at this? The majority of his life? Takera contemplated a few things in his head while waiting for the old man to sit down.

Finally the old man walked up to Takera and set a cup of tea down infront of him then proceeded to move over to the other side of the table and set his own cup down before pulling his seat out and sitting down. He stared at Takera for a second while sipping his tea. Takera didn't touch the tea, he just locked eyes with the old man while thinking about how the discussion would progress. "I'm seeking something I think you almost certainly have. I'm not here to play games or rudely assault you to reach my ends. Be assured that whatever the result I will walk away, but don't think I won't be back if you lie to me." Takera's voice began to get serious as he spoke and he placed his hand over his mask. He unclipped the mask and laid it infront of himself on the table showing his face to the old man. The old man was surprised at Takera's serious, but non aggressive methods and wasn't expecting Takera to just remove his mask and show his identity like he did. He coughed and cleared his throat as he sorted his thought. "I will make you a deal. I may or may not grant you what you've come here for, but only under the condition that you listen to my story. It's been a long time since I've had contact with another person and in my old age I could use the company. This does not mean you are gaurunteed to get what you are looking for, however it will afford you the oppurtunity."

Takera pondered the old man's words and quickly agreed to the old man's request. "Your request is quite reasonable. I will listen to your story, sir." Takera said as he kept his eyes locked with the old man's. The old man grinned once more with a shadey look upon his face. "Then let the story begin." The old man spoke before taking a sip of his tea and setting his cup back down. "The Seven Swordsmen of the Mist were an organization of the greatest blade wielding shinobi of their generation that Kirigakure could produce. There can only be seven swordsmen at a time, hence the name. According to certain past members, the swords are passed down from generation to generation. The members of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen were the people who came from the Bloody Mist's graduation exams with the greatest battle skills. However, the members also had a great lust for power, which led several of them to defect and become missing-nin. Kisame Hoshigaki became a member after killing Fuguki Suikazan, who was revealed to be a traitor leaking information to the enemies, but Kisame later became the first of the seven to abandon Kiri after committing several unauthorized assassinations, and attempting to overthrow the government, then joining Akatsuki afterwards. Zabuza Momochi would later defect as well after a failed coup d'etat and assassination attempt on the Mizukage. Before leaving however, he encountered a boy named Haku with a unique kekkei genkai and decided to take him along, as well as the Demon Brothers, Gōzu and Meizu. Since then, the total number of the group gradually decreased, as the swords one by one fell out of Kirigakure's possession. Eventually, Kirigakure was left with one sword, but it was not to last as eventually all the swords were scattered into the possession of a certain group of people and held secret for many many years." The old man coughed lightly and cleared his throat once again.

"That being said the swords have now been recirculated into the ninja world. According to word from my brothers, the swords have almost all been taken and only a few remain. The odds of you walking away from here with a sword are significantly low.... I have a question for you." The old man paused and let out a sigh. "What drives you to bring those horrible weapons back into the world? Why must you persevere as you do?" He questioned Takera with a stressed tone. Takera's eyes finally moved down from the old man to the cup of coffee on the table. The light in the corner of the house flickered as he reflected on the answer and what he'd been told. Finally he looked back up at the old man and placed a hand on his mask. "I seek power in hopes that I may seek my brother. I fear he has left this world. All I have left of him is this arm plate." Takera moved his arm over showing the plate strapped to his arm. "We had ventured out on a mission from Mist to capture two people who had betrayed the village and wreaked havoc upon the village before doing so. After we met with those very people they had been too powerful for our group and ultimately we fell. With that we were kidnapped by one of the enemies and forced to help him meet the ends of his desire for these swords. Something happened to him while we traveled back in this direction that caused him to panic and move towards Snow. When given the oppurtunity we moved towards Rain hoping to reach Wind and then take a boat down to Mist, but on our way to Wind we were ambushed and I was too weak to protect him. If it weren't for me he may still be around. I need to become stronger and find him. There's no way he's dead. I won't believe it until I've seen it with my own eyes. I've taken revenge upon those who had struck me down and kidnapped him, but I was unsuccessful in finding out where he was sent. I have to get stronger and find him or I won't ever forgive myself for what's happened." Takera's face was now filled with sorrow and he had become distraught, but his determination still stood firm. The old man pondered for a while as he looked over the person sitting infront of him. Takera had been sincere and the old man could tell.

[Sword Quest Sect. 2, Part 1: 200/200]
[Sword Quest Sect. 2, Part 2: 75/75]
[Sword Quest Sect. 3: 100/100]

[Current Lines: 103]
[Total Lines: 536]

Although Saru had been relatively quiet this entire time, the way that the fugitive Sorain had been carrying her for the last long while wasn't exactly the most comfortable position. As he ran his side collided with hers in a rough pattern with his steps, and she knew that later there would be a bruise there. The only reason Saru had been so compliant so long was because of the power she knew this particular nin had. With every stride he took however, the more her side hurt and it started to irritate her, enough to start making her not care that the man who was holding her was a strong fugitive.

Finally she reached her breaking point and with a sigh she spoke out "Hey, Could you at least stop carrying me like I'm a god-damn sack of potatoes now?" She was obviously irritated and in true Saru manner she pursed out her lower lip. "I mean, you're kid-napping me, I get it, but Hell can I at least piggy back or something? You're killing my side..." She wasn't completely sure if he would listen to her at all or not, after all, besides his prowess and the fact he was a fugitive, she knew nothing about him at all. At best he would let her ride piggy back, at worst he would kill her. But killing her would almost be a mercy to the pain he was inflicting on her side.

12/216 Traveling Lines

“She,” a voice huffed from the trees to the right of the path. The bushes on the edge of the clearing rustled before Musica slowly emerged from the trees. His body was hunched over from exhaustion and his hand clutched his chest as he breathed, each breath coming in heavy. He had long since disposed of his camouflaging jutsus, opting to save his energy for keeping up with Sorain. Even at his full speed, Musica still ate the man's dust. In the back of his mind, he figured it was an accomplishment to even be close enough to do that. “She has a point,” he continued in a heavy exhalation. Musica stopped walking and slowly straightened his body up, lifting his face to the sky as he leveled his breathing, his black and white Heikougan slowly returning to his normal blue eyes. “And by the crows, you're fast.” He said, as he removed his mask, giving Sorain a small, tired smile, his head glistening with small amounts of sweat. The red head slid the mask into one of the pockets of his bag. He put his hands on his hips and stopped walking, just far away enough to (hopefully) react if Sorain went on the offensive. He doubted that the ex-Lightning ninja would go on the offensive. If it came to that, Musica just hoped that he could last long enough for Saru to get close enough to Lightning to be safe. The Mist ninja suddenly wished he didn't go down that line of thought as terrible images entered his mind, cursing his paranoia and prior planning. “Notwen was the one who destroyed the town. You were only defending, and witnesses could testify to that.” Musica stated, his tone serious. He paused as he gave Sorain a level look, his eyes blazing with questions, his smile gone, now replaced with a confused frown. The tail of his traveling cloak blew by as it was caught by a small gust of wind that whistled between the three, a few leaves swirling down the road. Absently, Musica felt a wave of accomplishment as he realised how coll this must have looked. He tilted his head slightly to his left, his eyes never leaving Sorain's. “Why?”

As Sorain spoke, Saru noted a sort of heaviness to his voice. It was one of exhaustion, and as he finished his first sentence she realized that perhaps this man was not what the wanted posters had made him out to be. If he was willing to take on a new persona in a village as sort of a refuge to avoid trouble then she realized that perhaps most of the things he was accused of were from unavoidable circumstances. She did not let her guard down completely around him though, to do so would to be nailing her coffin shut. She was intrigued however, by the revelation of this mans character.

She regarded Musica, who looked rather worn out from following the two of them. She wondered why he would expend the energy to do so unless he was following Sorain. Turning her attention back to the wanted man she listened to him quietly. When he looked to her and called her a child she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, rather amused at this particular sentiment. With a simple handseal Saru released the chakra that was keeping her in her smaller form, and once the smoke cleared she was left standing in her older form once again. Musica had already seen this form, but she was assuming it would most likely catch Sorain off guard. "Excuse you," She said, the grin still plastered on her face "I'm no child, and furthermore, I don't like listening to orders when the alternative is much more interesting." She was still Petite, with a stature of only 5'4, but this form made it much more obvious as to what her gender was.

"So, Sorain Orasakai, the wanted criminal" She started "Since I am obviously 'not' a child... let me concern myself with these matters. I'm sure I can comprehend whatever you decide to tell me." With her arms still crossed she arched an eyebrow, obviously interested in the mans motives.

90/216 Travel lines

Sorain cursed under his breath before spitting onto the ground. The obvious route at this point was to simply knock these two out and be on his way. Hell, if he did so it would serve his goals even better because when found, they would be inclined to say that they were attacked by Sorain Orasakai. Be that as it may however, he found himself faced with an intriguing offer. Although he was self sustained and generally did not fear traveling alone. The idea of having a safer passage through the travel routes was one that he could not simply let go to waste. "You say that you have a way of safe passage through these lands. How would you have come across such a route?" he questioned before even noticing that the child that was following him had suddenly turned into a very well rounded women. Not the one to be taken by surprise, Sorain suppressed his erge to yell shananigens and simply said,"If you were grown enough to walk on your own you could have said something before making me carry your heavy a** half way across the country line" Sorain paused for a moment, throwing his hands up in reason. What was he doing? Was he seriously about to consider taking on followers yet again? The last time anyone had stayed in his company on his adventures they had ended up dead in a pit somewhere. "Do as you wish. I am headed to the land of fire. If you know of a safe way to travel there then lead on. However, I will not be responsible for either of you."

A hiss of air softly escaped Musica teeth as the red head winced, watching Saru scold the man. Worried, not for Saru, but for Sorain. 'H-Hell hath no f-fury,' Rodah's voice trembled, scared despite being safe in Musica's mind. “Like a woman scorned,” Musica finished under his breath, looking down at the ground. The red head took note in the fact that Sorain said both of them, silently surprised that he was letting Saru come with him. Not that Musica minded the company (he figured it would have been awkward with just himself and Sorain), but he figured that he would have deemed her unneeded baggage. 'I'm surprised he'd willingly bring /you,/' Rodah snorted, picking his ear. 'I'd pick the monkey chick over your wise-a** any day.' 'Right, because you don't talk back at all, ever.' Musica shot back dryly. 'You're just the shinning example of courtesy.' 'See?! Right there!' Rodah exclaimed, ignoring his brother's sarcasm. 'That is why I wouldn't take you outside of the house.' Musica made a mental effort, imagining hitting Rodah into the back of his mind with a hammer. An impact echoed in his mind, followed by an exclamation of both pain and surprise coming from a distance.

By the time Musica returned his focus to the present situation, Saru was just telling him and Sorain to cheer up. Musica huffed out a theatrical sigh and started walking down the path. “Yeah, yeah,” he drawled over his shoulder, his voice dripping with sarcasm so thick it was almost visible. “Because we would be oh so lost without you.” The young man spun to face his new companions, his cloak popping, giving Saru a wolfish grin and a wink, before throwing his awareness into the ground. Funnily enough, the nearest tunnel wasn't too far off. Musica turned and started walking again, crossing his hands behind his head, covering up most of his pony-tail. “Maybe about ten minutes of walking,” he called over his shoulder to Saru and Sorain. “And then all of your questions will be answered, free of charge.”