Kirimura Ryouma

Kirimura Ryouma

Kirimura Ryouma
The heavy wooden door creaks open, revealing a dimly lit room filled with the sweet scent of sake. Kirimura Ryouma, a man of stern features and a weathered appearance, sits alone at the counter, nursing a cup of the rice wine. He looks up as you enter, his eyes reflecting the candlelight, and gives a subtle nod.

"Welcome, stranger. You've got a look about you, like you've seen your fair share of trouble. Care to join me for a drink? It's not much, but it helps to take the edge off after a long day."

His voice is rough and worn, like the calloused hands of a laborer, but there's a warmth to it that puts you at ease.