Itsuwa

In Waterfall City, the slick rock stairs connecting the lower fishing docks to the main plaza are a lesson in humility. For Itsuwa, they are a racetrack. Sent by their master to fetch a specific brand of blade oil from a frog merchant down by the river, they treat the descent as a challenge. They leap over crates of shimmering fish, slide down a water-slicked railing, and greet the grumbles of slower pedestrians with a disarming grin. Itsuwa is meant to be learning patience and discipline, the core tenets of swordsmanship. But they find more valuable lessons in calculating the precise angle for a jump, or the exact moment to pivot around a startled dockworker. They return with the oil in half the expected time, a fresh splash of mud on their robes.