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-- GENJUTSU

You see, this is the reason I find The Old Woman's theories to be of little help.

He speaks as you hammer away, though does not seem to require you to stop in order to listen to what he says. He speaks casually, as if every word is merely the bored advice of an old man, but there is knowledge behind his method, even if it differs from your true instructors words.

It's not about taking out your emotions, the same way its not about forcing every experience you've had throughout the day into your work. As much as this is an artform, it's also a necessity for the world we live in. Craftsmanship is a utility, a vital part of the military forces of our and every other country, and as such, you shouldn't casually bang your hammer against the metal the same way a warrior doesn't casually swing their sword.

Practice is well and fine, but there's a certain understanding of technique that can't come from repetition. Though your muscles need training to wield your tools correctly, the art of crafting IS NOT a muscle, and practice won't help you do much but tire yourself out. Change the way that you think.

If you were to perform a ninjutsu technique, could you afford for your hands to be sloppy? For your knuckles to be bruised, for your fingers to lazily meander through whatever pattern you could bother to remember as your brain tripped and fell over every single feeling you had before you arrived to battle? Of course not. In combat, your mind must push away such distractions. It is no different in this place.

When you hold the metal, you should not think this is a sword, because you will succeed only in hammering it flat. You should think I am a sword. Your work is not influenced to become what it is by heaping traits upon it that it does not and cannot possess. It becomes a masterpiece by being you, not by becoming, but by existing as an extension of your own flesh and blood.

He continues to watch you, only stepping in to correct the manner in which you fold the metal, assisting you as you attempt to heat it and then douse it in a room temperature pool, blowing away the steam. He shows you where nicks and imperfections can be sanded away, how to fill in the chipped edge, and then relates such small maintenance to every tool that one might use for war. Before long, the iron slab you once held has been shaped into something that could easily be argued was a katana. The metal around the blade itself is a bit clunky, but with more heating and folding and hammering, it will not be too long before you are able to understand the mechanics of how to complete the blade.

---

Now is the time for you to ask questions; to question the philosophy of your new instructor, to try to understand as much about what you'll need to know to handle the craftsman techniques presented in their Profession Thread. Make this is a nice-sized post, The Old Woman is almost back with the food!
Proceed.

GM.
It would be difficult to see exactly how your attacks landed; the echoing screams of Ni and San rose in tandem, no doubt succumbing to roaring winds seeking to crush and rend and grind their bodies into little more than dry dust, but the sight of their deaths was hidden. The few remaining unbroken tree's outlining where just before a full forest stood, quaked, the ground beneath your feet rumbles and beneath the howling of the wind and the near unbearable pressure breaking through branch and leaf, the voice of the man known as Akuma can only barely be heard. A green light has encompassed the surrounding fifty meters, and in that brilliant flash, a change occurs.

"Damn you all to hell. I didn't want to use this so soon, but I see that you simply refuse to die."

Kyūketsukinoki.

^{("Vampire Tree")}

The land erupts around you, throwing the Kusagakure shinobi off of their feet, and regardless of how sensitive one is to the usage of chakra, it can be felt emanating from the man. A tangible aura of energy that expands quickly into roots that impact the bodies of Ni and San, cementing their death. Where the branches touch their bodies, they wither, skin drying and peeling away, only to blossom soon after into a brilliant array of new plant life that seems to have consumed the entirety of the shells they've become. Akuma grows. 10 meters, 20 meters, 50...his flesh breaks apart, each vein turning greyish green and taut with power before splitting into thick branches, fibrous plant muscle overlapping hard planks of wood arranged like armor over his bones. He has become a monster. A true demon. A harbinger of pain and destruction the likes of which had not graced this land in centuries.

He howls, and it is terrifying, as new wooden limbs extend like arms dig into the ground beneath him, propelling him upwards even as they race towards the nearby buildings that compose the upstart village. At first, you might believe the wailing of voices crying out in horror still belong to his bodyguards, but this is soon proven untrue, as the very city itself crumbles. It's people are being taken, and in places you cannot see, the thick roots of tree's pierce into the bodies of the city's inhabitants, and withdraw the very life essence from their skin.

Over the disfigured mass of flesh that is now Akuma's head, a swirling green ball of energy begins to form; leaves travel in a helix-shaped curve, prodded by the wind, twirling into fury as the weight of the condensed chakra sphere cause his new form to sink into the ground. Even places where only the light has touched the surface of the earth suddenly spring up with the growth of flowers, and you feel a faint pulling, as if you are to be drawn in to the shuddering nexus of whatever might come next.

It never comes.

As the energy is drawn, you notice that the new form he has somehow procured solidifies into compacted soil from the ground up. By the time he notices, half of his body has become little more than a shifting of dirt, and the natural energy he sought to pervert with this unknown technique backfires, the great ball of energy he would have propelled towards you exploding in timing with the utterance of a single word

"NO..."

There is a second explosion. More light. A concussive force too powerful to overcome.

---

By the time the blast clears, all traces of Akuma have been replaced with what seems to be a small collection of tree's. They are oddly shaped, however, some taking on the appearance of arms or faces twisted in rage, some merely enormous moss covered bones or the green vestiges of organs. His bodyguards are nowhere to be seen, and those who once called this village their home, are now little more than silent memories in the aftermath of destruction.

She listens to your words patiently, nodding as you describe the process of heat and folding metal, clearly appreciative of the fact that you came to her with at least some knowledge of what you might need to do. Even as you doubt the certainty of the process, she does not scold or correct you, she merely reaches out to retrieve the slab of iron, and looks at you with contemplative reserve before speaking again.

The mechanics of what you say ring true, but if I can teach you anything, its to look deeper than the basic levels of construction.

This iron slab is already a sword, so long as you envision that in your mind.

Sounds ridiculous, I know, but hear me out.

She stands up suddenly, going to the wall to retrieve one of the completed blades hanging from a bit of irregular shelving. It's handle and crossguard are impeccably designed; gold inlaid with silver winding up into a square hilt embedded with the image of a small squid. The edge of the blade is serrated near the tip, and the handle ends with a tiny symbol indicating the word "ocean". She holds it up to the light, swinging it lightly through the air a few times, then quickly plucks out a strand of her own hair. Holding it in front of herself for him to see, she releases it in the same motion, and the sword flashes by almost too quickly to be seen.

The hair has been split into two, perfectly divided into incredibly thin identical lengths of black.

This blade was made by Ryuunosuke. It's craftsmanship is superb, its design, nearly flawless. But it began as an iron slab no different from what you're holding now. What forces it along that transition? What allows it to create the journey from a hunk of hardened stone to a weapon?

Thought. The thought of the one who created it. That thought was real, and tangible, and sharp, far before the blade was heated and folded. It carried with it the essence of every other blade, every other weapon, that has ever existed or ever will.

Think about it. You perceive hunger; the desire to eat in order to gain nutrients and continue the functioning of your body. But that desire is only a thought. When you wonder what will I eat today, in some small way, you take into consideration every possible option, if only for the briefest of moments. You think about the food you have, about the food you don't have, about how much time you have to eat and thus the size and consistency of the meal. You think about what you could go get if you had the time, or money, or palate. But what do you think of hunger after you have eaten? Your options are no longer endless; you've already eaten. All of the thought and wonder, the anxiety of what will I do about this empty stomach of mine, all of that disappears. You've already solved the problem. You know what you've done about that hunger, and by knowing, you erase all of the possibilities for what it could or could not have been.

We work in a manner opposite to what I've just described. Before we touch the iron, before anything is heated or folded or shaped, we know, with absolute certainty, what it is we are going to create. This is not a slab of iron, it is a sword. I merely haven't finished making it yet. That slab over their is a spear, that one a pack of shuriken, the heap of metal in the corner is a helmet. Time is not confined to so linear a path that intent must always precede essence. No. In our craft, what something is has already been decided far before what we do with it, which makes our job all the more simple.

She places the sword down in your lap and asks you to take a closer look. It is a remarkable piece of work, one that is quite obviously at the level of a master. However, upon closer inspection, you begin to see moments of...imperfection. Areas where each side is not perfectly aligned, the tiniest nicks and cuts along the blade where the metal did not properly congeal.

I know that was alot to take in at once. If it makes sense...explain it to me in your own words. If not, explain what you can and where you might have trouble following.

---

Proceed.

As you'd bring the hammer down on the orb, something peculiar would happen. You would hear a sharp crack, and feel as if your entire body had been shaken from the bones outward, and the steel of the hammer itself would shatter into thousands of small fragments, cascading metal shards out around the room. The Old Woman would laugh and not even bother shielding her eyes, as the orb would roll around freely a bit on the table, before settling into place once more.

I call it Koton. Secret stuff. Nothing you need to worry about though! It's time to get crafting!

She would gesture towards the small rolling sphere and it would roll off of the table, propelled by a mysterious chakra, to practically leap off of the floor and into her waiting hands. She turned briskly and walked, motioning for you to follow, as you cleared through the narrower spaces of the Forge, coming to a room where a lone anvil stood, a tar covered slab of iron on top of it. Behind it lay a large stove, crackling with fire, and a pit of congealed liquid slowly heating as she directs you to sit down before her. She picks up the iron slab and hands it to you, before saying excitedly

Lesson One! The sword! Now I'm sure you already know what a sword is for, but few people really know how they're made. This is a simple piece of iron, but today, you're going to turn it into much more! If you do a good job, I'll even let you keep some of the things you create!

I understand you're pretty new at this, but I'm going to start off with a question anyway, just to see where your heads at. I mean, I see where your head's at, it's right there on your neck, but I mean, I want to know how you think.

Given this to start, and a new hammer of course, heh how would YOU make it into a katana? Remember, there is no wrong answer!

---

Proceed.