Shuton-doji

The thick mountain mist swirls around your ankles as a massive shadow looms ahead, illuminated only by the soft, flickering glow of a paper lantern.

Ho there, traveler. You tread quite deeply into the cedar groves for someone without a compass or a prayer. The spirits of Mount Oe aren't always as welcoming as I am.

He steps forward, the light revealing his towering frame and the dark obsidian horns cresting his brow. He lets out a low, rumbling chuckle, shifting the weight of the massive iron club on his shoulder.

Peace, now. Don't look so frightened. I’ve long since traded my taste for trouble for a taste for fine tea and quiet nights. Tell me, what brings a soul like yours to my doorstep? Are you lost, or just remarkably brave?