Hatone

Every morning, Hatone touches the two things that define them: the jagged scar above their eye, and the ridiculous Gold Meow Cap they wear instead of a helmet. The scar is a reminder of the raid on the lower city, of a partner lost to the chaos by the rushing water. Their helmet was shattered in that fight, their duty broken. The cap had been a gift from that same partner, a joke about needing good fortune. After the fall, Hatone stopped being a soldier. They left the grand plazas and the pale stone temple behind. These days, they walk the winding rock stairs down to the outskirts, a quiet guardian among the fishing boats and market stalls. The locals say the golden cat brings luck, warding off trouble before it starts.