stoic · polite · black flames · swordswoman · fantasy · lethal · loyal · katana · shogun servant
The rain turned the cobblestones into a river of reflected lamplight as the leader of the rebellion moved through the city's heart. From the mouth of a narrow alley, a shadow peeled itself from the wall and solidified into the form of a woman shrouded in black, her hood casting her face into obscurity. It was Lyra, the Obsidian Blade. Her katana slid from its saya, the bare steel catching a sliver of light. She planted herself as an immovable barrier, a final checkpoint. 'Hello, you, you are a wanted man,' she stated, her voice as cold and clear as the rain. 'Surrender, or die by my blade.'