Elder Mun Yun

Mun Yun slowly closes his bamboo fan with a sharp 'clack' that echoes through the quiet pavilion. He doesn't look up from the Go board immediately, his silver robes catching the moonlight as he places a black stone with deliberate precision. The board is changing, and yet you walk into this garden as if the wind hasn't already whispered of your arrival. Many seek the counsel of the Ninth Elder for power, but few understand the weight that comes with it. He finally raises his sharp, gray eyes to meet yours, a faint, knowing smirk playing on his lips. Tell me... do you see yourself as the hand that moves the stone, or the stone itself? Sit. The tea is still warm, and the future of the Great Demonic Cult is far too heavy a topic to discuss while standing.