"Enter."
Another of the limitless parade of vassals and regents, of personal attendants and diplomats had entered, this one a short woman with impeccably precise mannerisms and the deepest possible projections of outward respect. He felt only the smallest of urges to roll his eyes but held himself, instead continuing to face away from the woman and focus intently on the large device he had set up on the floor in the middle of his new office.
Many had come to see him since his informal inaguration as the acting head of the village after the previous ruler's sudden illness. Shin was still held up within the clan's hospital ward, apparently unwell but totally inert. The village needed to move along will still attempting to divert some portion of its resources to tending to their previous ruler. Zhangti simply hoped that no external force would attack in this moment of temporary weakness, though he found his fears mostly unwarranted.
This woman prattled on like many of the rest, though she spoke more and this pleased the new Kazekage; it gave him more time to put together the collection of things that he needed to create. Currently a large, roughly cylindrical rig was coming slowly together with the addition of a large amount of complicatedly strung together lengths of sinew and wire. He had only a handful of basic arrows with which to test the contraption as he had not yet got around to creating his own munitions.
She lauded him and pledged to him her eternal loyalty - as had those before her - and the only sound from the bald man before her was the springs and tinks and tiny hammer taps of his hands as they moved about the ballistic device. By the time she had bowed deeply to him and shown herself out he had completed it and loaded it with a single bolt which, with the attachment of a collection of chakra strings and the proper manipulations of the raw mechanisms, he fired directly into the wall. The loud sound of it lodging itself into the stone of the building caused the woman, now beyond the view of her new lord, to jump and hurry away.
Next a young child came in, this one bearing some exotic herbs and spices and Zhengti sat him down with a cup of tea as he continued to work, now having moved along to something more simple in the form of an extensive network of tubing with which he filled a huge amount of rather low quality iron shavings, each shaving minuscule and flowing, as if more of a liquid than a solid. This work moved particularly more quickly that that of his on the previous augmentation in that he was able to move the items around by feel alone. While his hands went to work shaping and cutting the piping his blood line allowed him to pour the liquid like metal filings into the tubes which, as he did this, floated together and began to take shape. Once he had finished filling them he moved over to the hull of the beast he was building and, with hands and mind alike, fitted the thin tubing through the body of the sharp toothed monstrosity.
If pressed he would utterly fail to note who the final person who entered into his office was though he had a sneaking suspicion that he was in fact a he. Beyond this he was unable to recall a single thing about the person up to and including his position, title, topics of interest or conversation, or clothing. No, the process of finely filing the pound or so of raw Ebony he had acquired into a massive array of tiny tooth-like projections and fitting them all about the outer shell of the puppet he was working so tirelessly upon. This part was far more obnoxious than he had originally anticipated for even though he had thought that his utter mastery over the hidden arts of magnetism would surely help him in reality such manipulations could only go so far and each piece ended up having to be attached via hand and tested via chakra strings in an almost endlessly annoying process of craftsmanship.
All that said, his labor of love had finally come together in the hull of a monster that he now needed only to finally piece together beginning with the cannon-like main armament which fitted snugly into the body and around which he wrapped the flame retardant cloth and then, with the aid of the pipe matrix and his bloodline he fit the whole contraption deeply and snugly into the dragon's stomach.
Then he simply needed to add on the final coating of the fire resistant cloth and, of course, to fashion the puppet's exterior. This particular part of the process brought him great joy as he loved to lovingly decorate the exteriors of his masterpieces and ensure that they looked appropriate for the art that they were. Yet this portion, this ending of the creation, always held a bittersweet note for him not only in the termination of the day's crafting but also in the knowledge that they would be inevitably marred by war.
exit
Another of the limitless parade of vassals and regents, of personal attendants and diplomats had entered, this one a short woman with impeccably precise mannerisms and the deepest possible projections of outward respect. He felt only the smallest of urges to roll his eyes but held himself, instead continuing to face away from the woman and focus intently on the large device he had set up on the floor in the middle of his new office.
Many had come to see him since his informal inaguration as the acting head of the village after the previous ruler's sudden illness. Shin was still held up within the clan's hospital ward, apparently unwell but totally inert. The village needed to move along will still attempting to divert some portion of its resources to tending to their previous ruler. Zhangti simply hoped that no external force would attack in this moment of temporary weakness, though he found his fears mostly unwarranted.
This woman prattled on like many of the rest, though she spoke more and this pleased the new Kazekage; it gave him more time to put together the collection of things that he needed to create. Currently a large, roughly cylindrical rig was coming slowly together with the addition of a large amount of complicatedly strung together lengths of sinew and wire. He had only a handful of basic arrows with which to test the contraption as he had not yet got around to creating his own munitions.
She lauded him and pledged to him her eternal loyalty - as had those before her - and the only sound from the bald man before her was the springs and tinks and tiny hammer taps of his hands as they moved about the ballistic device. By the time she had bowed deeply to him and shown herself out he had completed it and loaded it with a single bolt which, with the attachment of a collection of chakra strings and the proper manipulations of the raw mechanisms, he fired directly into the wall. The loud sound of it lodging itself into the stone of the building caused the woman, now beyond the view of her new lord, to jump and hurry away.
Next a young child came in, this one bearing some exotic herbs and spices and Zhengti sat him down with a cup of tea as he continued to work, now having moved along to something more simple in the form of an extensive network of tubing with which he filled a huge amount of rather low quality iron shavings, each shaving minuscule and flowing, as if more of a liquid than a solid. This work moved particularly more quickly that that of his on the previous augmentation in that he was able to move the items around by feel alone. While his hands went to work shaping and cutting the piping his blood line allowed him to pour the liquid like metal filings into the tubes which, as he did this, floated together and began to take shape. Once he had finished filling them he moved over to the hull of the beast he was building and, with hands and mind alike, fitted the thin tubing through the body of the sharp toothed monstrosity.
If pressed he would utterly fail to note who the final person who entered into his office was though he had a sneaking suspicion that he was in fact a he. Beyond this he was unable to recall a single thing about the person up to and including his position, title, topics of interest or conversation, or clothing. No, the process of finely filing the pound or so of raw Ebony he had acquired into a massive array of tiny tooth-like projections and fitting them all about the outer shell of the puppet he was working so tirelessly upon. This part was far more obnoxious than he had originally anticipated for even though he had thought that his utter mastery over the hidden arts of magnetism would surely help him in reality such manipulations could only go so far and each piece ended up having to be attached via hand and tested via chakra strings in an almost endlessly annoying process of craftsmanship.
All that said, his labor of love had finally come together in the hull of a monster that he now needed only to finally piece together beginning with the cannon-like main armament which fitted snugly into the body and around which he wrapped the flame retardant cloth and then, with the aid of the pipe matrix and his bloodline he fit the whole contraption deeply and snugly into the dragon's stomach.
Then he simply needed to add on the final coating of the fire resistant cloth and, of course, to fashion the puppet's exterior. This particular part of the process brought him great joy as he loved to lovingly decorate the exteriors of his masterpieces and ensure that they looked appropriate for the art that they were. Yet this portion, this ending of the creation, always held a bittersweet note for him not only in the termination of the day's crafting but also in the knowledge that they would be inevitably marred by war.
exit
