Hatashi Yamikuri

<Blind - Fisherman - Gambler - Masseur>

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Biographical Bullet points

Personality bullet points:

By all means, Hatashi was not an imposing man; be it stature or attire Standing at just around five fulm seven ilm, he held a lightly muscled physique. One of activity over body building and strength.

A faint, floral scent seemed to carry with his body, a mix of hibiscus and cherry blossom.

His left shoulder bore the only illustration of skin on his body. A heavily stylized prayer to the Kami and the ocean.

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• The Lewd Bits (18+)

Hatashi almost always dresses rather plainly. Often in a plain black vest and skirt, with a sash around his waist to stow his Shikomizue when it is not in hand as a walking aid.

Sometimes, he is seen wearing nothing more than a shadow blue skirt and his geta, though this is most often when he is out on the water with a spear and net for fishing.

He always has a shadow blue strip of cloth covering his eyes and a plain travel bag somewhere on his person.

Occasionally one can see him wearing pants and a plain blue shirt.

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Shikomizue: At first glance, this appeared to be nothing more than a lightly decorated, black walking staff. The head had a nice leather grip intricately wrapped around, held on with brass caps and bands. The butt of the stick had a pointed steel end piece, darkened and muted to protect the staff from damage as it was used to tap around the ground, or leaned up against as a cane. The entire thing seemed to fit so flushly together that there was no visible seam; though at a moments notice the double edged blade could be revealed. Often drawn out in a surprise attack, and with such a swiftness that most wouldn't even realize that a sword had been drawn at all until it was too late. The entire thing stood at about four and a half fulm, giving some space for a moderately lengthy blade to be concealed inside.

Fisherman's trident: Less of a weapon, and more of a hunting tool, this seven fulm spear bore three blades at the tip and a short, bulbous spike at the butt.

Oni's Reach: A rather large Nodachi, standing in at nearly twice the Ronin's height. This nine and a half fulm sword was functional, yes. But it seemed to be a mostly ceremonial weapon, often only held by Hatashi when he was practicing with it.

Kami's bite: A long, black Naginata whose shaft seemed to have a scroll wrapped around it just below the weapon's head. A weapon that looked as if most of its use came from before the lad was blinded.

Infantry Yari: A Su Yari or straight, double edged spear. A two fulm hardened spearhead attached to eight fulms of wood. Throw it?

Yumi: Another weapon that likely has not seen action since the Ronin lost his vision. It was an eastern bow whose top limb was a bit longer than the lower limb.

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Chō-Han dice and cup. A pair of stone dice and a bamboo cup for gambling.

Kami talisman: Two necklaces sat around his neck. One bearing a resemblance to a flying bird and the other being an etched coin inscribed with another prayer to the Kami.

Fishing line and hook set: A spool of strong line and a series of small and medium sized hooks wrapped up in a leather roll.

Fire starting kit: A small leather bag with a striker, some flint and some dried tinder for making camping fires.

Traditional sword cleaning kit: An inscribed wooden box that contains an Uchiko ball, Choji oil, a few silken bits of cloth and a mekugi-nuki.

Shamisen and Bachi: ---

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Early Life:

While not born into extreme affluence, Hatashi didn't grow up destitute. His family, like many others in the small village made reasonable success in the fishing trade, at least enough to not worry about the meals for that day. Though, like many of the young children in his village and the ones over along the rest of the coast, he didn't wish to live such a simple life. He didn't strive to be another fisher whose only worry was being raided by pirates or bandits. No, Hatashi wished to learn the blade. Running around the village with his friends, they'd all have mock battles imitating the Samurai that served at the behest of the village's lord to ward off the aforementioned pirates and thugs.

Though, unlike the rest of Hatashi's friends, he found himself actually given the chance to carry the blade.

There are many legends of those who bore greatness from the day of their birth. Great warriors who through a trial of terrible hardship would flourish into their legacies.

Often the tale started with the hero, as a child, foolishly trying to fight a foe that was far superior than they were, and by some miracle they would win that fateful fight. Go on to avenge their family or what have you.

In Hatashi's case, he didn't win. Rather, the bandits could hardly contain their laughter at the sight of a ten year old floundering and flailing at them with a broken oar. Sure, he might have gotten in a few good bonks, but had the proper Samurai not showed up, his story would have been far, far different.

The boy's training began shortly after his act of foolish bravery, and then it wasn't long from there that he was pulled from his home and sent out to Kugane and its coast to safeguard the merchant vessels.

The Fall of a Samurai:

For a few years everything seemed to go well, serving dutifully to capture or otherwise dispose of sea thieves, scoundrels and general criminals who endangered the people of Hingashi, and more importantly her wealth. The satisfaction of living that dream, something he had wanted since he was a small child, now an adult doing it. But, it was a bittersweet thing, like most dream careers. Never as exciting as he would have hoped it would be, never too challenging. Though that changed not long after he came around the age of twenty-two or so.

The Garleans had taken over Doma when he was younger, their technology had spread. Grievous weapons of pure destruction had started falling into the pirate's hands, and with that new ways to maim and kill. Bright flashes of blazing heat, thunderous cracks of sharp noise, small, metal projectiles rending armor, flesh and bone. With those he fought alongside falling all around him, the young samurai found himself floating adrift the wreckage of a destroyed merchant vessel, washing ashore. Bloodied, and battered and bruised. For weeks his head throbbed, bandages covered his body and face. In an instant everything he had strove to achieve was gone with the loss of his sight.

Now, he was useless. Or at least seen as such, left to be nothing more than an honorless beggar, and a gambler. Though he was lost, he was far from broken. Or at least, he tried to present himself as such.

Even though he was stricken with grief at the loss of his comrades, status and sight, Hatashi pushed on. Pursuing music played along the side of streets, or practicing the ancient arts of holistic eastern healing through massage and body manipulation.

The Rise of the Void Slayer:

It isn't really said what drove Hatashi to have his katana refitted and hidden away with in his cane. Or what drove him to venture out of Hingashi to travel the world as a wandering ronin. Perhaps it was the time that he learned that his muscles still remembered how to fight, when he fought off a group of thugs accosting someone, or when he himself was cornered in an alley way in Kugane's Rakuza District. That might have rekindled his flame to fight, or perhaps that flame never died.

But tales of horrible, devilish and downright evil creatures soon filled his ears and before he could even consider the various reasons as to why or why not, the young ronin was on a ship bound to some place he had never seen, or even really heard too much about.

Hatashi couldn't tell you what it was like to kill his first voidsent, or how each one was different. What he could tell you is the process of rituals he would perform as rites of exorcism both before and after slaying the aether hungry beasts. A bunch of old superstitions passed down from the elders of his village, mostly. Plus a few things that he found to be particularly effective.

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