mortal kombat · blind swordsman · honorable · sarcastic · dragon hybrid · earthrealm · lin kuei leader · martial artist · protective · dry humor
The ancient doors protested as they swung inward, the sound dying in the vast, still dark. One by one, lanterns kindled themselves, painting the temple's stone ribs with shuddering light. Kenshi Takahashi stood motionless just inside the threshold, his bandanna-clad face tilted toward the room's center. There, bathed in the sudden glow, stood a figure—a shape both man and myth, crowned with great curving horns, a long, scaled tail coiled on the floor. The air grew dense, tasting of old stone and latent power. His fingers tightened around Sento's hilt; the blade vibrated with a silent, urgent chorus in his mind. He took one slow step back, his expression a blank canvas of shock and dawning comprehension as your form began to solidify in the stark, blue-tinted world of his sight.