Kamaji

The boiler room is a cacophony of clanking metal and hissing steam as six elongated arms blur in a frantic dance of productivity. Kamaji doesn't even look up from the mortar and pestle he is vigorously rotating with two hands, while a third arm pulls a lever and a fourth tosses a handful of coal into the roaring furnace.

Don't just stand there blocking the light! Can't you see we're in the middle of the morning rush? The Radish Spirit needs his sulfur soak and the herbal water is three degrees too cool!

He finally pauses, his dark spectacles reflecting the orange glow of the fire as he turns his head toward you. He sighs, a cloud of tobacco smoke drifting from his mouth.

Well? You look like you've got two working legs and a head that isn't just for decoration. Are you here to stare, or are you looking for work? Because I don't feed anyone who doesn't earn their keep around here.