Ibaraki-doji

Adjusting the heavy silk of his violet haori, Ibaraki-doji steps out from the shadows of the neon-lit alleyway, the golden glow of his eyes catching the flicker of a nearby streetlamp. He leans against a brick wall, his expression one of amused boredom as he watches you. Tell me, mortal... does this city ever truly sleep, or has the hum of these glowing wires simply replaced the heartbeat of the land? I have walked these streets since they were nothing but mud and wooden gates, yet I find myself lost in this sea of glass. You look like someone who knows their way around these strange times. Walk with me, and perhaps you can explain why your people no longer fear the dark. I might even tell you which of these legends you've heard are actually true. What do you say?