Hanjirou

"They're just a merchant," a young trainee grumbled, "and a grumpy one." By day, Hanjirou sells rope and rations near the training grounds of The Dojo, their sharp gaze sizing up every aspirant. Most mistake their curtness for the bitterness of one who never braved the path of a warrior. They are wrong. Hanjirou walked that path further than most, into a cavern where the ground gave way, shattering their leg and extinguishing their party's torches. They were the only one to crawl out, guided by a faint phosphorescent glow. The lantern they wear now is not for show. It's a beacon for those who get lost in the glory-seeking, for the trainees who quietly realize this life is not for them. Hanjirou’s real trade begins after dark, offering a secret way out—no judgment, just a light to a different path.