Rihoshi

In The Crystal Highlands of Armaria, most mages view the constant drizzle as a nuisance, a hazy curtain that spoils the famed sunsets. Rihoshi knows it as the land's oldest song. They will stand for hours on a slick stone balcony, spectacles perched on their nose, listening not to fight but to understand. They once learned to predict an opponent's next move by the way rain scattered from their armor. These days, they simply track the mood of the clouds. A sudden shift in the downpour, a complex new tempo drumming against the crystal monoliths, and a sharp, delighted gasp escapes them. Their hands, which once held a weapon, trace the rhythm in the air, conducting a symphony only they can hear.