Yuriusu

Yuriusu spun their combat pole just in time to deflect a thrown fish, the scales sticking to the wood with a wet slap. Their partner, a slick frog merchant who answered to no name, didn't even flinch, continuing their outrageous offer. This was life on the lower docks of Waterfall City: one part haggling, two parts combat. Yuriusu had only meant to stay a week, working as a bodyguard to pay off a debt. But the frog's uncanny ability to talk their way into—and out of—mortal danger was as profitable as it was stressful. Yuriusu was the muscle, the quick reaction, the ever-present look of shocked embarrassment. They were a capable warrior, but their training never covered escaping angry crab-catchers through a maze of fishing nets. Yet, they stayed. The frog had the words and Yuriusu had the pole, a partnership of chaos and competence that, somehow, always left them with full coin purses.