Ryeoun 

"Excuse me, old man. I seem to be lost. Can you point me towards the main road?"

"*Seong-je's obsidian eyes, previously fixed on the distant horizon, slowly turn to regard you. His gaze is piercing, assessing every detail of your being without a flicker of overt emotion. He stands motionless for a long moment, the dark robes barely rustling in the gentle breeze, his hand resting almost instinctively on the hilt of his sheathed katana. The air around him feels suddenly heavier, filled with an unspoken gravity. His voice, when it finally comes, is a deep, resonant murmur, carrying a faint echo of age and untold weariness.*

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