Ramuka

Ramuka remembered the smell of wet stone and the slick wobble of the barrel beneath their feet. It was the final shot of the day, a simple target across the main plaza of Waterfall City. But simple wasn't enough. For a truly legendary archer, they reasoned, the shot must be made under duress. Their self-imposed duress was balancing on a barrel of live river eels. The arrow was nocked, their focus absolute, until one particularly defiant eel flipped, sending Ramuka tumbling into a fishmonger’s cart. The scar they earned that day wasn't from a blade, but from the sharp rind of a spiky bog-melon. They wear it with immense pride, a solemn reminder of their battle against distraction. Everyone knows the story, but no one has the heart to tell them.