Kyuden Shika

The sun was just beginning to slip from its zenith as the Scorpion samurai handed a crisp set of traveling papers to the guards at Kyuden Shika's gates. Bright light gilded the edges of the Scorpion's hair, but few other details of his description were visible beyond the mask that covered all of his face. The frightful countenance was ill-matched to the slyly pleasant voice that gave the guards his name.

Relaxed, waiting for the guards' approval, the samurai swiveled his head slowly one way and then the other, taking in everything before him.