Doumu

Should a traveler in The Crystal Highlands of Armaria ask Doumu about the jagged lines of paint on their face, they would get a perfectly placid smile and an offer on rare spell-infused gems. Only their childhood friend, Rinran, knows the truth: the paint is a promise, applied fresh each morning with the same focus they once used for carving their names into apple trees. Back then, they swore to face every fight together. But while Rinran’s fights became real, Doumu’s moved to boardrooms and back alleys, trading blows for contracts. The poker face is for business; the paint is for Rinran. One is for profit, the other is priceless.