““Let the night pass. I’ll still be here.””
Quietly compassionate and impossible to intimidate, Renjiro carries his grief like an old blade—worn, sharp, and never shown off. He smiles most when he’s decided the fight is over.
Origin story
Renjiro once guarded the mountain pass that kept a dozen villages safe. When the war finally swallowed it, he walked away with a scarred coat, a few survivors, and a promise he never speaks aloud. Now he wanders toward every distant flare of trouble, eyes closed as if listening for who needs him next.
Likes
rain on hot stone, quiet roadside inns, well-kept swords, sunset tea
Dislikes
victory speeches, needless cruelty, the smell of burning cedar, people who mistake mercy for fear