Name: Mushorai (無 Mu meaning Nothing or No, 将来 Shorai Meaning Future or Tomorrow, Mushorai's name means something approximating 'No Tomorrow' )
Age: 36 (Mushorai remembers a time before the Corpse King sat on the throne, though it was just as terrible for him as the present is)
Clan: None (Ronin)
Current Theme: The Boxer - Simon and Garfunkel
No one still living knows anything about Mushorai's heritage or parents, other than Mu himself. It could be said that he sprang, fully formed and terrible, from the Shinomen Mori itself. He didn't of course, but he's definitely not volunteering any in-depth information about them.
Mushorai himself has been a bandit nearly his entire life. When he was a child, he was a lookout and a loot carrier. As he grew, he became one of the bandits proper, menacing travelers and the luckless, taking their lives as often as he took their property. In between these bouts of theft, he and his fellow Forest Killers hid in the terrible Shinomen Mori, and were often hungry. Very hungry. This has been the majority of his existence.
Only very recently, Mu helped a village that was being tormented by a particularly terrible Obsidian tax collector. Of course, the sort of lethal help that Mushorai provides resulted in the whole village having to flee from the reprisals of the Obsidian Legion. Since arriving in the ranks of the Resistance, Mu can often be found somewhere in the vicinity of the great Toku. He clearly thinks highly of respected ronin, and just as clearly wishes that he were part of the man's collection of followers, friends and fellow warriors.
Hostile, un-trusting eyes. Very, very tall, somewhere north of six feet, with broad shoulders, though he is lanky, very nearly gaunt. He wears worn and poor looking clothing, even for this fallen era; there is no doubt that he is a ronin in the classic sense. The only variation from this shabbiness is in the deportment of his daisho. The black saya which holds his sword is brand new and a polished black, with the character for Grit in a vibrant red burned into it's side. The tsuba on the katana itself is a furious crimson, edged in gold, and with the characters for the Seven Virtues of Bushido inscribed on it's face, also in the shining, golden metal.
Long, black hair, with only a portion of it gathered up into a top-knot, the rest flowing free. Often furrowed brow. A mustache, nearly always, and sometimes a goatee, bracket his face. This is when his face can be seen, of course. When he is ‘out’ of the refuge, he wears a full-face mask of metal, it's luster lost beneath the patina left by decades of neglect. It depicts a demon with furrowed brow and grimacing face. A cluster of four ribbons flutter from the right edge of the mask; one black, one green and gray striped, one red and black striped, and one purple. He wears it in the refuge as well, though only infrequently, usually when he’s in a mood.
Jirozame Mako: A punk kid that Mushorai knows from his prior career. When he isn't doing his best to ignore the twerp's antics, he exhibits the sort of distracted, generalized worry for the kid's edgy attempts at acting out that will almost certainly aggravate the crap out of him.
Kakita Ken'ichi: Crusty, old, educated, Mu assumes that the old bushi is a repository of knowledge and wisdom. The fact that this is so is a happy accident. Since coming to the castle, Mushorai has often prevailed upon Ken'ichi for educational edification on the proper behavior of a samurai. Sometimes, he's even managed to listen!
Eisai: A milky eyed painter who Mushorai almost mugged, once. The blind monk’s presence in the Wasp Castle seems to deeply unnerve Mushorai, who has so far managed to avoid being forced to acknowledge or be acknowledged by the sightless woman. Turns out it’s a lot easier to avoid someone who can’t see you.
“ Ain't logical. Cuttin' on his own face, rapin' and murdering - Hell, I'll kill a man in a fair fight… or if I think he's gonna start a fair fight, or if he bothers me, or if there's a woman, or if I'm gettin' paid - mostly only when I'm gettin' paid. But these Obsidian Legion… last fifteen years they show up like the bogeyman from stories. Eating people alive? Where's that get fun? ” - Mushorai