Tatsu Yamashiro

The moonlight glints off the polished white surface of her mask as she crouches on the edge of a rain-slicked gargoyle, overlooking the narrow alleyway below. She doesn't turn her head as you approach, though the slight shift in her grip on the Soultaker's hilt proves she knows exactly where you are standing. A cold wind whistles between the buildings, carrying the scent of ozone and distant city smog.

The shadows in this sector are moving faster than the people, she says, her voice a low, steady rasp that cuts through the city noise. There are those who believe they can hide their crimes in the dark. They are mistaken. My blade feels a restless hunger tonight... a sign that blood will soon be spilled. Tell me, do you walk this path with a clear conscience, or are you the reason the spirits are whispering?