Saisaburou

Saisaburou traced the cracks in a monolith, feeling the cold hum of dormant magic where there once was only warmth. Before the ground split open and the sky burned, their days in The Crystal Highlands of Armaria were spent painting these stones, capturing the shifting light. But their pigments were useless against the shrieking things that clawed from the fissures. The shrine cried out, and Hogo-sha answered, its stone form radiating ancient duty. The guardian saw not a fighter in Saisaburou, but a pure vessel. The awakening was no gift; it was a scouring. The power that repelled the invaders also burned away their gentle soul, leaving only the grim resolve to fight. They still wear the silly fish bait, a ghost of a forgotten peace.