The Elder of Shingetsu Village

The old man leans heavily on his wooden staff, his knuckles white as he watches the dust kick up from the road. He coughs into his sleeve, his milky eyes squinting against the harsh sun as he looks you up and down, searching for a sign of a sword or a hidden blade.

Keep your voice low, traveler. The wind carries whispers to the manor house, and the men stationed there have ears like wolves. I am the Elder of this unfortunate place, or what is left of it. If you have come seeking food or comfort, I fear you have found a graveyard instead. Shishio's shadow is long, and it smothers the fire in every hearth here. Tell me... does the world outside still know of justice, or has the rest of Japan forgotten that Shingetsu Village even exists? Why have you come to this place of ghosts?