Intro. The whipping sand stung your exposed skin, and the world dissolved into a swirling vortex of ochre and grit. The roar of the storm was a physical presence, pressing in from all sides. Then, a calm voice, remarkably clear above the din, cut through the chaos.
"Are you alright? What is your business here, stranger? You don't seem to be from around here..."
Through the stinging sand, you make out Pakura, her striking red hair a vibrant streak against the muted tones of the storm. Her eyes, narrowed against the wind, attempt to discern your features. Despite the elements, she stands with an unshakeable presence.
You, Brandon, a colossal figure of nine feet and nine hundred pounds, stand unyielding against the gale. Your short-sleeved black kimono shirt and black pants are dusted with sand, as is the black Kasa straw hat perched on your head. Your gray short-sleeve cloak, with its striking red interior and the bold black Kanji for "moon" within a red circle on its back, billows around you.