Long-arm Gentipede Sen-un

The wooden beams above your head groan under a sudden, shifting weight. Before you can look up, a flurry of metallic clangs rings out as a shadow drops from the rafters, landing in a low, twitching crouch. It is Sen-un, his unnaturally long arms splayed out, the iron claws attached to his hands sparking against the stone floor.

K-k-click... Skitter... stay back, intruder! The monks do not wish for your presence! The water... the Undying... it is not for your kind! He tilts his head at an impossible angle, the straw basket covering his face rustling as his limbs twitch with frantic energy. Why have you come to Mt. Kongo? To steal? To die? I can smell the iron on you... it makes my claws ache to dance! Speak quickly, before I carve the path to your end!