Signs pointing to the Takusan Dojo (PL 1)

A young man in a tattered gi is seen wandering around the well-traveled sectors of Old-Tokyo, hammering down signs with carefully hand-painted messages that read: "All are welcome in the Takusan Dojo to come learn under sensei Haruo, regardless of deformity. In addition, all are welcome to challenge the dojo's masters, though be cautioned they are peerless in their art," in addition to directions to the dojo itself.

While the Takusan dojo may be considered a modest building compared to the grand architecture within the dome, outside of it, it is a building only the most well off could have built. A classic looking dojo with a sturdy foundation, and a fresh coat of paint makes this building stick out like a sore thumb next to the tents and piles of scrap metal that constitute the homes of Old-Tokyo's peasants. A number of old martial arts masters enjoy some tea as they oversee the early-morning training of their students. They look out over the wastes, hoping some answer their call.

(PL 2) A very tall man in a black kimono slowly shambles through the streets of Old Tokyo. His back is large and hunched, occasionally the more perceptive onlooker can detect some rifling and movement from the conspicuous lump. Even stranger than his seeming deformity the man appears to bear six katanas in six scabbards. As he makes his way slowly towards the dojo many bystanders gawk at his large and unsightly mass yet dare not utter a sound in his direction. As he approaches the masters he bows deeply and with genuine respect. Both before, during, and after his bow, the stranger wears his bamboo hat tilted in such a way as to shroud his eyes. "Greetings wise masters, I hear you are the senseis of this dojo and as such, I was hoping you could provide me with some mentorship." he petitions quietly.

One of the masters pats an empty spot next to himself on the low table where the masters of the dojo are enjoying their tea. "One need only ask, and they shall be accepted into the Takusan dojo. Ours is the way of many paths, and as such, all are welcome to train here," he replies. "Come, sit, and have tea with us," he says.

"Many thanks, Ojichan." the middle-aged man almost whispers before taking a seat at the low table. "Would you be so kind as to pour some tea? I have traveled many miles to reach this place and as a result, I am quite parched from my journey." he hoarsely whispers once more. The black robed man appears to have difficulty sitting at the small table before he decides to instead simply crouch. As he bends his knees the masters get a closer look at the suspicious lump hidden underneath his robes. For a moment it seems to move about slightly before growing still upon the man getting into the crouching position. "So tell me, wise masters, what arts do you teach at this dojo? You say yours is the way of many paths but surely it cannot be all?" he ponders curiously.

One of the masters, an old bald man with only one eye nods slowly, "All are different, in mind, body, and soul. There are as many paths as there are those who would walk them. We, the masters of the old traditions, are here to act as guides on your path to betterment, so you may defend yourself out there in a cruel world," he explains as he pours the stranger tea.

"Interesting. What a generous and honorable way to live one's life." the black-robed figure compliments. The man in black takes a long sip from the teacup before introducing himself "My name is Chibiki, I lost my surname after I lost my honor. I was once part of a clan of warriors and craftsmen yet I made a contract with... distasteful figures. To make a long story short, wise masters, I sold my weapons to those who intended to use them for dishonorable deeds and so I left on a self-imposed exile." Chibiki somberly recalls. He takes one last sip of his tea and as he finishes it he bows his head in thanks. "Wise men of Takusan dojo, I wish for guidance from those who have also walked the path of the warrior. To those who wield far more wisdom and experience than I. What could I possibly do to repent for my shame?" he silently pleads.