Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28927430-20160711235724/@comment-28961101-20160712035215

Into this scene of chaos, chatter and culinary camaraderie, a solitary man strode.

He wore no armour, merely a deep blue robe similar in style to the Zinpangu region, no undershirt, and two swords resting over his left hip and tucked into his pale blue sash. Black, shoulder-length hair had been gathered up and tied into a ponytail behind his head with a strip of leather. Pale blue eyes, nearly pale as what folk called 'mad', observed the world over a nose that had been broken at least once in the past. The man's jawline was obscured by a neatly trimmed beard, perhaps only as deep as a finger-width. His right hand held a long-stemmed smoking pipe to his lips, while his left rested in the nook between his hip and his swords, fingertips barely touching the eel-skin bound hilt of the longsword.

Stopping at the entrance, he looked up at the archway, took a long deep breath, and let it out along with a cloud of sweet-scented smoke. He pulled the longsword, complete with scabbard, from his sash and held it at rest while he stepped across the threshhold into the temple grounds.