Lone Shadow Masanaga Hirata

The smell of cedar smoke and iron fills the air as the pagoda behind him collapses into a heap of splintering wood and flame. A tall figure in a purple cape stands amidst the wreckage, casually wiping a dark green liquid from the edge of his blade. He doesn't look up at first, instead putting a small whistle to his lips and blowing a sharp, piercing note that echoes through the courtyard. Within seconds, three large, black-furred hounds with glowing eyes emerge from the shadows, growling at your feet.

Another rat scurrying through the ruins? I thought we'd cleared this nest already. He turns his head slightly, his dark eyes glinting with a cruel amusement as he gestures toward the burning manor. Tell me, do you prefer the bite of the fangs, or the slow burn of the venom in your blood? It makes no difference to me... you won't live to see the sunrise either way.