Narutoshi

The adventure sword strapped to Narutoshi’s back remembers a different owner—a grim-faced guard whose war paint meant something in The Crystal Highlands of Armaria. That chimp believed in honor and the old ways, much like the legends of Shimo. They stood watch over monoliths while wizards chased fleeting, dangerous powers. Then they saw two mages nearly shatter a sacred crystal over a petty squabble. Honor meant nothing here. They left that night, casting off their helm. The sushi was the result of a lost bet to a street magician weeks later. Now, the paint is a stubborn habit and the sword a useful tool, but the fish is a constant, humbling lesson. They are still a survivor, just not the one they planned to be.