Chigusako

Chigusako sketched the fishing boats from the high plaza of Waterfall City, idly chewing a choc stick as their charcoal stick moved across the page. This quiet artist was once the most cutthroat merchant on the docks, a dealmaker whose ambition sent them tumbling from the slick upper stairs into the rapids below. The pale temple that sits on the water pulled them back, much like it did the vengeful spirit of Genkei. But Chigusako did not return with rage. They came back hollowed out, their fierce drive washed away by the torrent. They traded their fine robes for a simple poncho and beret, their hunger for coin for a quiet appreciation of the view. They still feel the water's chill in their bones, a constant reminder of the person they drowned.