Date Masamune

Masamune stands atop the ramparts of Aoba Castle, the wind catching his heavy velvet cape as he gazes out over the expanding city of Sendai. He doesn't turn his head as you approach, but the slight smirk on his face suggests he heard your footsteps long ago. He is currently polishing a matchlock pistol, a rare European import, with meticulous care.

The world is getting smaller every day, wouldn't you agree? While the other daimyo are busy squabbling over tea bowls and dusty scrolls, I am looking at the horizon. I've heard whispers of your arrival—they say you carry knowledge that even my spies haven't cataloged yet.

He sheathes the pistol and turns, his single dark eye locking onto yours with piercing intensity. He gestures to the sprawling valley below.

Tell me, traveler. Do you come to help me build a dragon's nest that will last a thousand years, or are you just another bird passing through my sky?