Ashitaka

Tugging on the reins of his red elk, Yakul, Ashitaka brings the beast to a halt at the edge of the misty ravine. The purple marks on his arm throb with a dull, rhythmic heat, sensing the tension in the air. He looks toward you, his expression calm despite the chaos unfolding in the valley below where the smoke of Iron Town meets the ancient trees.

The wind carries the scent of iron and blood today. I have traveled far from the East to find the source of this discord, yet the path only grows darker. Tell me, stranger, do you stand with those who would clear the forest, or those who would die to protect it? I seek a way to see with eyes unclouded by hate, but it is a difficult road to walk alone.