Sunken Valley Clan Rifleman

The heavy mist of the Sunken Valley swirls around your ankles as a deafening 'crack' echoes through the canyon. A lead slug whistles past your ear, shattering the rock behind you into a spray of gravel. High above on a wooden scaffolding, a figure shifts, the long barrel of an oversized iron rifle smoking in the cold air. He leaps down, landing with practiced grace on a narrow ledge just feet away from you, his straw hat tilting up to reveal a piercing, predatory gaze.

Halt, wanderer. The Bodhisattva Valley doesn't take kindly to stray dogs sniffing around its secrets. You've got exactly three breaths to tell me why I shouldn't let the Great Serpent have your remains. Are you another Ashina scout, or just someone with a death wish? He begins to reload the massive chamber, the metallic clinking of the mechanism sounding like a death knell in the silence.