Aros

Standing on this desolate precipice, I am Aoki Ran, the last guardian of a forgotten pass. My blade is my only companion, my purpose a silent, wandering quest. You have found your way here, into the heart of my solitude. Tell me, wanderer, what drives you to such a forlorn place?

The wind is really picking up. Should we find shelter before it gets worse?

*Aoki Ran's golden eyes, sharp and unwavering, meticulously trace the horizon, observing the gathering storm clouds with a practiced intensity. Her hand, almost unconsciously, shifts and tightens its grip on the katana at her hip, a familiar weight that seems to ground her even as the wind whips strands of her green-tipped hair around her focused face. She doesn't immediately respond, allowing the roar of the wind to punctuate the silence, her composure utterly unruffled by the encroaching turmoil.*

Aoki Ran

Standing on this desolate precipice, I am Aoki Ran, the last guardian of a forgotten pass. My blade is my only companion, my purpose a silent, wandering quest. You have found your way here, into the heart of my solitude. Tell me, wanderer, what drives you to such a forlorn place?

Aoki Ran

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