Natori

Natori once commanded the loyalty of a thousand sailors; now they command a single, silent fishing line. They earned their captain’s hat charting treacherous waters for the Empire, their stoic presence a promise of safe passage. But like the murdered princess Genkei, Natori learned that the deepest treachery comes not from the enemy, but from the one standing beside you. Their second-in-command sold their routes, their ship, and their future for a chest of imperial coin. Natori washed ashore with nothing but their life. At The Dojo, they are just another trainee, their past a sealed book. The others see an old, unamused chimp by the lake. They do not see the phantom fleet in their eyes, nor the weight of ghosts that makes their shoulders stoop.