Sigil: City of Doors

Basic Information

Assumed name: Aki is all she gives out.
Aliases: The same.
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Age: 22
Profession: Skilled masseuse, landscape painter and ninja.
Languages: Kozakuran, struggling with Common. She also has a basic grasp of draconic due to casual observance and familiarity with the draconic alphabet.
Accent: Possesses a peculiar and rather heavy Kozakuran accent.

Physical Information

Height: Slightly less than average.
Weight: The same.
Body build: The lean physique of an accomplished martial artist.
Skin type: Typical for a human with a few birthmarks.
Hair style: Long, slightly wavy hair usually kept in a ponytail.
Scars and tattoos: There is a thin scar on the left side of her belly Her hands are somewhat calloused along with signs of an old scraping injury along her right arm. Strange symbols have been burned into her wrists. Finally, a large, elaborate dragon tattoo covers her back from shoulders to waist.

Colouring:

Hair: Black
Eyes: Dark brown
Skin: Yellowish

Mental Information

Alignment: LE

Philosophy:
For order to prosper, for peace to reign, men must die.
To take lives is a privileged burden carried with honour, not power.
Each blade has two sides, in discipline lies strength.

Deity/Beliefs: The eight million gods. Most notably Chirasu, goddess of stealth and patron of thieves and the ninja.

Personality:

Humble. The prideful lose perspective and make fatal mistakes.
Aki has been treated poorly and conditioned to believe this.

Loyal. Disloyalty to the clan means death.
Betrayal of companions is dishonourable and shameful.

Direct. Many matters can be resolved quickly. Speak what needs to be said.
Running one's mouth about nonsense shows a lack of discipline.

Helpful. To allies, at least.

Prejudiced. These people around her aren't Kozakurans and so, there's something inherently wrong about them until they can prove otherwise.

Homesick. Aki misses the mist on the mountains, the rolling hills of cherry blossoms and the quiet fury of the distant sea.

Additional Information

Gear: The typical garb of her clan, middle class clothes, oaken tonfa, shuriken, diary, brushes and scrolls for painting and writing. Scented massage oil.

Jewelry: None.

Habbits/hobbies: Nodding. A habit brought about by habitual silence and social hesitation. She paints to earn a meager living and applies her extensive knowledge of anatomy and pressure points to massage folks willing to pay. A relatively benign side to her killing arts. Privately, she's fond of expressing her innermost feelings in poetry.

General Health: In good health, as far as she can tell.
Favorite Drink: A curious drink made of brewed rice that's regrettably rare in Sigil.
Weaknesses: Aki is afraid of deep water. Leaving Kozakura by boat was never an option. She is also concerned about being put in embarrasing situations and is (rather irrationally) self concious about her weight.

More to come...

They are strange people and I do not understand their culture. At first glance, these are savages like the western barbarians I've read of but the other day I visited a house of art. They seem to have some refinement after all. Civilised or not, I do not trust them.

The locals have been kind. I've been granted infusions of magic to my tools for prices unimaginable back home. Others have had no qualms about leading me around, showing me the city and its peculiar oddities. This friendliness does not put me at ease at all. They want something, I am sure of it. In the case of the men, their motivation is shallow and easy to understand but what does the women have to gain from these excessive attempts at friendship?

I have tried to earn some money by offering my services but I understand there is a language barrier. Some take it the wrong way and others refuse, dismissing me as something I've managed to translate into money-dress. At first it confused me but the context tells me it isn't flattering at all!

The food here is horrendous. Many here celebrate excess and the absolute nonsense is reflected in their cooking. Many of the dishes presented are intended to impress with exotic ingredients rather than provide nourishment.

I can choose to stop asking what I am being served or to restrict myself to the two dishes that I know to be safe. With my luck, any attempts to experiment will be rewarded with an otherworldly intestinal parasite.

There is much talk about the destroyers lately. Madmen who murder and demolish the city simply to prove they can. Some seem to think there is some grand ideological basis for this but all I see are dangerous men that must die.
What can I do to make this happen? To kill them alone would only make me a target of the guards. These foreign folk will not understand my ways...

A strange thing happened the other day. During my latest foray into the icy hills I found the remains of several locals strewn about and when I stopped to investigate, a pair of demon folk emerged from the nearby cave. In spite of the climate, they were barely dressed and ran toward the portal. Judging by their weapons, they were responsible for the slaughter but why were they fleeing?
I left the hills quickly. Whether they were fleeing or simply leaving, that cave had nothing left for me.

I know something happened later and I have vauge memories of fighting wild savages but the details escape me. More recently I followed an odd looking man and one of the demon folk to the hills again. I am still not used to the sight of the tailed creatures but I found the presence of the man to be comforting.
His distanced mind and calmness in battle as well as what I could understand of his speech reminded me of the samurai.

I do not know how I came back to the city. Why does my memory trick me this way? Is it the recent stress or something more sinister?

I do not know if these people truly appreciate my paintings. I have heard them call my style simple and lacking in imagination. Only a few so far have the presence of mind to understand the symbolism inherent in what I try to portray.

The way I see it, if all that they see are trees, mountains and waterfalls, it is not my place to lecture them. They will have to learn on their own, if they choose to. Few bother to ask. It matters none as long as they pay. I am not so lost in myself that I stubbornly hold on to something that may benefit me if I give it up.
They can be uncultured savages if they so desire. As long as they are wealthy uncultured savages, appreciating only what they see, I will keep painting for them.

I killed again yesterday. He was a merchant from elsewhere, thinking himself above the system in place. He tried to remove his competition legally but I saw the deceit behind his ways. Given time, he would have done much damage to the system and so, he had to be removed. There was no one to pay me for the service. It is not something that troubles me though it is inconvenient. The authorities have been spared the wastefulness of pursuing another distraction and may focus on their own ways, whichever they may be. I expect no thanks.