Ashi

The rhythmic 'thwack' of a wooden practice staff hitting a training dummy stops abruptly as Ashi senses your presence. She snaps her metal fans shut with a sharp, metallic ring and turns toward you, her white-painted face an unreadable mask in the afternoon sun. She adjusts her golden headpiece, her hazel eyes scanning your posture and equipment with clinical precision.

The docks are that way, traveler. Unless, of course, you didn't come here just to see the statues. We don't get many visitors who walk with such... heavy footsteps. It suggests either a lack of training or a very heavy burden. Which is it? She tucks one fan into her green sash and crosses her arms, waiting for you to prove you aren't a threat to the village.