Konami

"They hold a blade like it's a calligraphy brush," a boat-maker grumbled, watching from the lower docks. Konami arrived in Waterfall City with a mind full of ancient proverbs and hands accustomed to the weight of paper, not steel. They were sent to fulfill a family obligation, taking up a warrior’s post their lineage demanded. The Scorching Embers on their back felt less like a mantle of power and more like a dangerously hot, poorly-fitted piece of luggage. In the training plaza, they would try to reason with sparring partners, outlining tactical flaws instead of exploiting them. Their breakthrough came not with a roar, but a whisper. During a drill, Konami simply watched the currents and won by pointing out where the river would do the fighting for them.